Broken Chains
by kataract52
Summary: After her abduction by Sinister, Gambit's daughter Honor comes to Xavier Academy for a clean start. Trouble never takes a day off, but it's worth a shot. ROMY plus some other crazy pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**A/N: **This story is a continuation of 'Honor Saga', although you needn't have read it to read this. Basically, Gambit's daughter, Honor, comes to Xavier Academy and tries to make the life that she wants. You'll find I've taken some artistic liberties with characters ages. Most obviously, Tess (Sage) is a young woman, about 13. Nate Summers was never infected and sent to the future in this universe, so hence there is no Cable. The rating for this story may go up in later chapters, but right now it's pretty light.

**Broken Chains**

**Chapter One: Homecoming**

"Free at last! Free at last! Free at _last!"_ Remy cheered as he burst from the airport doors.

He'd become accustomed to the quickness of the X-Men's jet, and traveling first-class did _not_ make up for the cumbersome, compact airplane with air-tight security and long lines around the luggage trains. In his haste, he almost ran into a group of Russian tourists entering the building. Easily dodging the crowds, he cut through them like a fish through water to the white-haired goddess waiting on the other side.

"Stormy!" he cried, and swept her in his arms.

Struggling to get out the door, Rogue rolled her eyes and grumbled: "You'd _think_ he was married to _her_!"

Rogue's stepdaughter, Honor, walked in front, trying to clear a path. The young woman was a healthy mix of both parents: she had her mother's Louisiana curves, her father's red-and-black eyes, and red-blond hair that were a combination from both. She was also tall and strong like both of them, and easily kept people at bay as she and Rogue squirmed through the swarm. If Rogue accidently touched any of these eager passersby, they'd lose a part of their psyche to her body. It was a mutant ability she'd struggled with all of her adult life. But she was also pregnant, and her mutation placed her babies at a high risk for miscarriage. In an attempt to spare the unborn twins, Honor worked _extra_ hard to protect Rogue's flat tummy.

Behind Honor and Rogue, Bella Donna struggled to carry everyone's luggage.

"Ah wish you'd let me carry my own bag," Rogue said, "It ain't gonna _kill_ me."

Once outside the entrance doors, Belle set down her load and sweetly asked her daughter: "_Chere_, you done wit' dis?" In her hands, she held _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. The so-called children's book was as heavy as a baby hippo.

"_Sí_, _sí_, Momma. I finished it on the flight."

Belle expertly threw the book like a boomerang. It flew a good ten yards and knocked Remy in the back of his head.

"LeBeau! Get your ass over here and _help_ us!"

.::.

Tante Ro drove us to Xavier Academy. The students returning from Christmas break filled in the traffic around us, and I'd hoped to arrive unnoticed. I wanted to pretend the last two months of my life _never_ happened, but everyone here knew and was unlikely to let me forget. The moment we pulled up to unload, a crowd gathered around our car.

"Gambit!" Paige Guthrie, a blond student, practically threw herself on my father. "Did you have a merry Christmas?"

"Oh, Mr. LeBeau!" her friend Tabitha Smith joined in, "Lookin' good!"

"Here, Gambit," said Mel Guthrie, "Let me help you with that – Oh, hey, Rogue!"

"_Girls_," she curtly acknowledged.

"Pochica!"

I knew the voice instantly. Turning, I saw my friends Uri and Tess. I only saw Uri first because you can't miss him: he's big as a mountain with tough green skin and bright yellow eyes. Like most people with physical disadvantages, he learned to make up for it with an outstanding personality. His reputation at the school could easily rival the most beautiful and athletic students, but Uri really was a dork. But the source of the voice was my Tess. Oh, how my heart soared at the sight of her. My first and truest friend. Like me, she'd been artificially aged, and now had the body of a sixteen-year-old. She was slightly shorter than I, with pale skin that bore many scars, and raven hair that shimmered pine green in the sunlight.

"Sage! Newton!" I cried and bounced to them.

"_Group hug!"_ Uri said, picking Tess and I up in one bone-crushing embrace.

"Uriah…!"

"You're really hurtin' us!"

He set us down and told me: "Oh, this place is so _droll_ without you trying to kill yourself!"

"And the instructors have _far_ too much time to bother _us_," added Tess, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

"_Mais_, you can all relax now! Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts!" I put my arms around them, so happy to be home again.

"Harry Potter?" Tess asked, "I always thought you were more like Sirius Black."

"Then away wit' me, Misters Moony and Prongs, for we have _much_ mischief t' manage!"

The three of us moved away from the crowds to one of our favorite haunts: the underbelly of the bleachers. I didn't care what others thought or how they looked at me. For the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again.

Uri filled me in on the gossip, including the media search for my whereabouts.

Apparently, Xavier saw an opportunity for positive P.R. in the Harlem riot three months ago. Papa and his friends received a hefty bonus for their containment efforts. More importantly, they were popular with the people. Tragic and inspiring stories surfaced, and certain additional people were awarded medals. I was one of them. The governor wanted to give me the medal of valor for "outstanding acts of heroism".

Unlike many of the other heroes, my actions had been captured on _film_, and were played over and over again on the television. There was a demand for an interview with me, but of course, I was… _unavailable_. They might have overlooked me if my father weren't so attractive and powerful. They might have forgotten about me if Johnny Sanchez wasn't my godfather. My pretty looks and elusiveness added to their appetite, and they craved answers.

"Your picture's been all over the circuits," said Uri. "Gambit refused to give them anything, so they keep using the clip of you blowing up the bus. Don't worry, your hair looked fantastic!"

"That's a relief," I said. "I'd hate t' t'ink they're broadcastin' my fifth grade school picture."

"I can't believe you, Uriah," said Tess, "All the excitement around here lately and you're talking about her _hair_. Tell her about Ms. Frost."

His eyes became as round as saucers.

"How could I forget? Frosty's the headmistress now. She's replaced Ms. Grey in every way… She and Mr. Summers have been all over the place together! They're not even _trying_ to hide it!"

"And speaking of Mr. Summers," Tess added, "_Nate's_ moved to New York."

"She wouldn't care about Nate Summers," said Uri. "She doesn't even _know_ him. But trust me, honey, you'll learn all about him. People around here act like they've never seen a gorgeous hunk of a boy with old money."

As if on cue, said pupil approached the bleachers. Three pretty girls, all older than me, stood in his shadow. One of them, a pretty black girl named Melody Jacobs, hung onto his muscular arm. She was under his spell, and he was completely smitten with her. I could tell from their locked eyes and the way she pressed her breasts against him that they were lovers. I wanted him to recover from our horrible experience: insanity, rape and possession – a dark period I would never discuss with Uri or anyone else. But it hurt to see how _well_ he had recovered.

Nate's bright blue eyes stayed on my face. He said something to the girls that made their pretty faces turn ugly, and then left them. As he approached me, Melody made to follow him, but Tess quickly intercepted her.

"Hey, 'On," Nate said coolly and the white streaks in his brown hair fell over his face.

"Hey, Nathan."

"You two know each other?" Uri said.

Nate politely introduced himself, and Uri answered: "I know who you are."

"This is my friend, Uri Kobowski," I said. "He doesn't know when to _beat it_."

Uri looked puzzled. "Like the wind, sweetie."

As he left, Nate sighed: "Does _everyone_ have to know _everything_ around here?"

"You get use to it…"

Awkward silence lingered between us. We were trying to have an intimate conversation in public. Knowing he could hear my thoughts, I decided to talk with my mind.

_*I'm not supposed to be alone with you.*_

_*I know,*_ he thought. *_Me neither. I won't keep you long. I just wanted to say, I'm glad you're okay.*_

_*Yeah, well… I'm glad you've got such a thick skull. I'd hate to feed you through a straw for the rest of your life.*_

_*Good_ _thing your screams can wake the dead. And teleport them to the moon, apparently.*_

We smiled at our own morbid jokes, and never discussed it again. The pretty girls came and sucked him back into the appropriate circles, and I faded into the background with my friends.

.::.

My knees had locked and my heart was pounding in my ears. It was dark, and nearly all my escape routes had been shut off. I was so worried that my father wouldn't be able to distract my mother, but he convinced her to leave us alone. From our corner, we dashed across the stage behind the closed curtains. On the other side, I heard Ms. Frost's booming voice and the heartbeats of several hundred people. The red 'exit' sign was within reach when Papa grabbed my collar and yanked me back. I chocked from the impact, and then gasped as he threw me out onto the stage.

_Traitor!_

Everyone applauded my entrance.

My face burned. I wished I were invisible.

The whole school was there, including the X-Men. I recognized a group of powerful politicians sitting beside Xavier. The only news outlet present was a local channel. The reporter was Trish Tilby: an old flame of Dr. McCoy. The new headmistress, Ms. Frost, introduced me, and then the governor of New York shook my hand and presented my medal. I can only recall a few blurry moments of the event. I do remember the governor's warm hand and kind blue eyes. I remember Ms. Frost beaming proudly at me – like she'd never known Ms. Grey or that I'd killed her. And for what? If these people wanted to know the truth, I'd lost my mind and overpowered, blowing up six city blocks in an attempt to protect Tess from being abducted. Everyone _thought_ I was protecting the people on the bus from the riot, but I wasn't.

Somewhere in the background, I heard Momma say: "_Ma bébé!_ Look, _chere_, we made dat!"

But I remember, clearly as the sun, Tessa smiling. My eyes found her in a sea of faces. Her proud smile gave me strength.

Afterward the political circus to promote mutant rights, the older students threw a party with music and alcohol. I made the mistake of attending, and found myself irresistible to teenage boys. Their flattery was intoxicating.

"_You're the prettiest girl on campus, honey."_

"_If you just opened up a little more, you'd __**never**__ have another lonely Saturday night."_

"_You should come to our after party. I'd love to spend more time with you."_

"_Here, have another drink."_

Once again, Tess came to my rescue.

"We're leaving right now! Try to stop me, and I'll tell Gambit that you _horn dogs_ have been pumping booze into her!"

As we stumbled outside, I thanked her.

The party went on without me.

"It's nice to finally get you alone," she said. "I was beginning to think I'd have to schedule an appointment."

"Not you, Tessy. Never you."

"I was so worried about you, 'On. I was afraid I'd never see you again."

I took her hand, but it wasn't enough. I hugged her arm, but that wasn't enough, either. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, but I needed more of Tess. She seemed to feel the same way. Hand-in-hand, we strolled to the training field and sat on the icy bleachers. While reminiscing about the sparing match that had set recent events into motion, we stroked each other's hands and hair. We both began to shiver, although I suspected the snow had no connection. My skin felt so alive. The way she drug her nails over the skin on my hand made every cell sang in ecstasy.

So I kissed her.

.::.

_Hey Pochica,_

_I've been up all night thinking this over. I've got to get this off my chest, and I hope you can forgive me. You're my best friend and I love you. From the first day we met, I've felt this connection with you. You make me feel so alive. I've never felt this way._

_I can't imagine my life without you. Before I met you, I was just going through the motions. Like a zombie. But you make everything feel so __real__. _

_I don't ever want to live without you. We're soul mates. We've always been together._

_You're my everything._

_How do you feel about me? What was last night to you?_

_Please don't hate me._

_~Sage_

…

_Sweet Sage,_

_How could I hate you? You've given me a place to belong. I feel the same way about you. No one's ever made me feel the way you do. I love you. I think I've always loved you. I want us to be more than friends. Kissing you was the best thing I've ever done._

_Are you ok with that?_

_I love you._

_~P_

I put my response in her locker before first period. I expected another note before second period, but none was forthcoming. I couldn't breathe. My stomach churned and boiled. During class, my hands were damp and my head light. What had I done? She'd never speak to me again.

Third period was mutations control: a mutual class. She handed me a tightly folded note and walked away. Under Logan's all-seeing eye, I didn't get a chance to read it until after class.

The locker was full of sweaty girls in various stages of dress. The older girls quickly showered and crowded around the mirror to re-apply make-up. The younger girls crossed their arms around tiny breasts and huddled together like sheep. Tess was nowhere to be seen.

I grabbed a toilet stall and opened the letter.

_Chic,_

_I don't want things between us to change. You know how people talk. What would your parents say? They might never let you see me again._

_I don't want to be under people's microscope. I love you, but I'm not blind to the fact that people are going to talk about us. It would drive us apart. As much as I hate these people and this school, I have to live with them._

_And then there's Nate. I've seen the way you watch him. Would you choose him over me?_

_I just don't think it's worth the risk. I'm happy being friends._

The whole world began to spin. My chest seized. I turned to the toilet and threw up. A girl knocked on the door, but before I could answer, I vomited again.

"Are you okay, honey?" asked Tabitha, a sophomore, "Logan push you too hard? …Did anyone see who went in?"

"I think that's Honor," answered my roommate, Julie.

My school mates called for Dr. McCoy, and I was so embarrassed that I let Logan take the blame. I went willingly to the sick ward, and Dr. McCoy treated me for exhaustion.

"You normally do well under Logan's supervision," he said casually. "I know there was an unapproved social gathering last night, and some of the older students behaved most recklessly. Did anyone offer you a drink? Is there anything you can't remember?"

"I got back okay," I said without much concern. "You're a doctor. Why don' you ever talk t' me like Dr. MacTaggert?"

"Well, Miss LeBeau," he pushed his glasses back. "I'm not a _psychiatrist_. But you are welcome to speak with me about any matters where you value my expertise."

"There's, uhm… _someone_… I really like. But dey don' feel de same…"

"Oh, I see. And I infer you feel rejected based on a _physical_ level? Yes, I could probably be considered an expert on the subject. Unfortunately, I can offer no words to bring you relief, and I've heard them all. But I hope the bitter taste of heartbreak will sweeten the arrival of true companionship."

There was a terrible pressure in my head. My eyes burned and leaked. My heart literally _ached_.

"I feel like I'm dyin'."

Dr. McCoy brought me a glass of water. "Drink this, kitten. Is there anything I can do to ease your longsuffering?"

"_Non_," I drank the glass. "I can't live wit'out her."

He wasn't shocked by my pronoun. Instead, he sat across from me and said: "I highly doubt Miss McNeil wants you negated from her entire existence. Her love may not be similar in desire to yours, but I'm certain it's just as potent. I'm sorry for your pain, little one, but you still have a great deal to take joy in."

"I could be in love wit' Ms. Frost, you don' know." I wiped my face.

He smiled and sent me on my way with a chocolate lollipop, which cheered me up considerably.

I went through the day feeling like someone had ripped my limbs off. I felt as hopeless and humiliated as a spider under a child's sadistic thumb. I wanted to die. I made a point to avoid Tess, but that only brought _more_ attention to our situation. Everyone asked me where she was, why we weren't together, or if we'd had a falling out. The whole world knew we belonged together. Why didn't _she_ see it?

At home, my love life was no one's concern. Rogue was moodier than the English sea. She'd decided to take off the collar that inhibited her powers, at least temporarily, and seemed to be doing well. She still wore it in the evenings, when I'd rub her feet or back, but Papa wasn't allowed to touch her. If he so much as kissed her, she'd scold him, but he took it all in stride.

Also, my parents were trying to work out a custody arrangement that pleased everyone.

"What do _you_ want?" Papa asked me about our living situation.

He and Momma were very still and quiet. I knew they'd only asked for my input because they couldn't reach a compromise.

"Are you askin' me t' chose?"

"_Non_, of course not."

"I want both my parents. Is dat an option?"

After I'd gone to bed, they spoke with Rogue over tea.

"_It's what she needs __**and**__ what she wants," Momma said, "She needs __**stability**__, Remy. She needs __**structure**__. It's stressful enough for her bein' back at school, where de kids pick on her! De she's got de stress of exams and now __**Nate's**__ here, too! Mon Dieu, once you get sent t' another mission, it'll be de end for her. De last t'ing she needs is t' be __**rotated **__from one house t' another."_

"_No, I don' want dat, either." _

"_I don' t'ink New York is good for her. Too much stress."_

"_She's __**happy**__ here, Belle," Papa countered. "She'll be stressed anywhere. 'Least here, we got de people t' handle it. You can't say dis place done her more harm den good! You seen her face when she saw her friends."_

"_But there's __**Nate**__. She shouldn't have t' see him every day after what he did t' her."_

"_Let's not base our lives around de Summers, oui? De place so big, and dey don't share classes. She never have t' see him unless dey go lookin' for each other. Nate's only here t' help Cyke deal wit' Jean's passing, but Em's doin' a fine job of dat. We see how she does. If he stays and she can't deal wit' it, we'll move from dere. Till den, de only person who has a problem wit' New York is you. But you can stay here at de mansion. Got plenty a' room. Dat way, you see her just as much as me."_

I don't _what_ made my father think that would be a good idea! The X-Men were extremely distrustful of Momma, and put Bishop with her almost permanently to keep an eye on her activities. Between Papa's classes and training sessions, my parents found time to discuss _everything_ about me: my grades, my moods, which medications I should stop taking, and which ones I should be taking more; my weight, how much I slept, which doctors I should see, and when I should have an appointment. Yes, they left no topic untouched. For those truly hectic days, they communicated via post-it notes and in anagrams. If they wanted to get a message to me, they'd write it on my napkin and put it in my lunch. _'Polly tours Fort Igend' _meant: don't forget your pills. _'Fly Loo loves a foul meal'_ meant: all of me loves all of you.

I thought Dr. MacTaggert would've been proud of us for working like a family, but naturally, Rogue was insanely jealous and felt isolated.

Trying to establish some independence, Momma enrolled at NYC University. We supported her as best we could, but she was completely out of place.

"Dese kids kill me!" She complained. "Twenty-eight years old, and don't know what dey wanna do wit' dere lives! You know what I was doin' at dat age? Explaining puberty t' my youngin'! I got not'ing in common wit' dese damn spoiled Yankees!"

But things weren't bad for everyone. Johnny got a record deal, and Momma's _Dead Song_ was all over the place. Since Momma co-wrote it (but was officially deceased), I received fifty percent of the royalties. Of course, Papa tried to refuse. We didn't need the money, and had done none of the work. But Johnny insisted.

To get away from my problems, I took up astronomy classes with Tante Ro. I had always enjoyed star gazing, and this gave me a chance to avoid the people I loved while doing something I loved. Tess found out and joined, too. Our first class together, she shared my telescope. She did little things to be close to me: rested her chin on my shoulder, grabbed my hips as if casually walking by, put her hand over mine. It felt wonderful to be near her again.

After our first joint class, the small group dispersed into the night. Tess followed me.

"You never answered my letter."

"You said it all," I said, avoiding her eyes.

"I think you misunderstood me, Chica." She took my hand. "I miss you. Don't you miss me?"

"You said you didn't want me." My voice sounded so little, and my eyes couldn't bare the sight of her.

"I didn't want people to find out about us. I want to be with you, but I want it to be just us. I don't want everyone trying to tear us apart. And you know they will. Remember what a big deal it was when Bethany saw us in bed together? They won't understand. But you're so sweet, 'On. So innocent. You'd tell the world and expect them to be happy. Wouldn't you?"

"I love you," I told her. "What's wrong wit' dat?"

"Nothing. I love you, too. Let's just wait to shout it from the rooftops. Okay?"

This time, she kissed me.

.::.

Rogue was beginning to show, and was forced to confront the rumors. For years, the students had been speculating on her relationship with my father, but when the big change occurred, no one noticed. She told her squad first that she had indeed eloped and was pregnant. A few moments later, Ms. Frost made the announcement at breakfast. People were more surprised at how well we kept the secret than in its discovery.

I smiled with pride every time someone asked me: "How long have you known? How could you not say anything?"

Now that she had an excuse, Rogue's patience completely disappeared. I loved her, but she was impossible to be around.

Momma's birthday is February 14th, exactly two months after Papa's. I decided we all needed an excuse to celebrate, and insisted on Papa taking us all to dinner and a show. I thought maybe some fun would make us forget our problems. I picked a secret, rooftop restaurant where the chef cooks all the food in front of the guests. He was a loud Italian man who sang off-key and was generous with the wine. We all ordered something different and shared plates.

"How'd you find dis place?" Momma asked me.

I told her how Dr. McCoy mentored me during my brief troubled phase, and adored this man's desserts.

"De food is fantastic," Papa said. "Be better if it weren't freezin'."

"I hate dis city!" Momma burst.

Inwardly, I groaned. Was one night of contentment too much to ask? Tess gently placed a hand on my knee, but no one noticed. Papa had engaged my ill-content mother in conversation about our inevitable future.

"What it gonna take t'make you happy, Belle?"

"Nothin'! You gotta job here. A wife. Honor got her friends. School. I got _nothin'_. So I go back t' Nawlins, and den what? Honor gonna fly down on de weekends? I t'ink not. We gotta stay together. Either ya'll be unhappy in Nawlins, or I'll be unhappy here. Dis a democracy, so Momma looses."

"Dat ain't what I asked you. I asked you what it gonna take t' make you happy?"

She took a deep breath. "I wanna see Honor every day. I want m' own place to live. Some place wit' a porch and a yard. I can't stand de way people live here: on top a' each other like roaches!"

"Ah'm partial t' porches that wrap all the way around," said Rogue idly. She was picking all the vegetables off Papa's plate, and he'd subtly pushed it closer to her.

"I wouldn't mind 'em on de second floor, too," Momma answered.

"Mah dream house would let me step out of mah bedroom onto a balcony that overlooks a lake…"

"Waterfront property?" I said. "You _do_ dream big!"

Papa smiled at them and asked me what I wanted.

"I wouldn't really care if it was a big house or not," I said. "But I guess it'd have t' be, _non_? De twins will need separate rooms eventually, and I don' wanna share. Plus, Momma and her boyfriends... Dat makes for a big house."

"What boyfriends?" My mother sat up straight and looked doubtful. "You see somet'ing tall, dark and handsome in my future?"

It made me happy to discuss a project with my family: something we could all enjoy. I didn't particularly enjoy discussing "the future". When Momma asked me directly about a tall, dark and handsome man in her future, I received a vision. Although I tried to resist, I saw Bishop's outline. I saw his shoulders and face clearly. The M-shaped scar faded into a wrinkled face. He looked back and smiled at me.

I shuttered.

"I've always wanted a tower," I avoided the topic and diverted back to the house subject. "You know, it's a part of the house, but kinda separate."

"Like you," said Papa.

"Its round and got a spiral stair-case," I used my hands to illustrate my vision. "De room's at de top. And it has a round window like a ship."

"Well, if we all gonna be livin' together," said Momma obliviously, "We need thicker walls den dat cottage in Scotland. We were all on top a' each other dere. It was terrible, Tess. Couldn't nobody _sneeze_ wit'out de whole house hearin' it. And _dese_ two would be up all night like a couple a' rabbits."

I laughed so hard and suddenly that water shot into my sinuses.

Rogue choked, too, and Papa's face turned red for an entirely different reason.

"You could _hear_ us?"

"Hear you? _Chere_, I could tell what _position_ you were usin'."

"_Mon Dieu_," he dropped his head in a rare display of embarrassment.

Momma loved it.

Rogue turned to me. "You heard, too? Why didn't you bang on the wall or somethin'?"

"Papa kept tellin' you t' keep it down," I giggled, "and you didn't seem keen on listenin' t' _him_."

Somebody banged the table so hard that our glasses rattled, and Tessa's fork fell off her plate. Papa called for the check. Momma laughed until she cried, and Tess and I were in stitches. After dinner, we headed north towards Broadway. The walk was a few blocks, so despite the cold, we decided to walk. Papa kept asking Rogue how she felt – where her feet too swollen? Was she cramping?

"She might be all right," said Momma, "But I'm about to wet m' pants. I woulda never thought _ma fille _would say anyt'ing like dat!" She laughed again.

Tess and I buried our faces and giggled. She and I linked arms and walked behind my parents. Momma did a double-take, but decided we were just fighting the cold. The air itself wasn't unbearable, but the wind cut right through our jackets. Momma took Papa's vacant arm and leaned slightly towards him.

I thought it was the first time I'd seen my parents touch, but I then remembered a memory not my own. That night in Muir Island when Dr. MacTaggert had me restrained, my father disintegrated the chains and vowed to keep me safe without bonds. My parents fell into a half-sleep in my hospital cot. I lay between them: completely unconscious. Momma had a hand on my stomach, and Papa laced his fingers with hers.

"Are you okay?" Tess whispered. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Fine."

"You had a vision, didn't you?"

"I love you, Tess."

No one knew me like she did.

Since I picked the restaurant, Momma picked the show, but I don't remember much about it. Tess and I sat on the end. She put her arm around me and traced my collar with her finger. I could've burst into flames.

After the show, we girls grabbed a hot chocolate while Papa hailed a taxi to take us back to school.

"Thanks for inviting me, Ms. Boudreaux," Tess said.

"Please, call me Belle."

"I really had a great time tonight. I never got to do things like this with my parents."

"Why not?"

"Mom-"

"No, its okay, Chica." Then she told my mother: "I grew up in a war torn land. We barely had enough to eat, and theaters didn't even exist in my homeland. As an act of survival, my parents put me in an orphanage. I was the youngest, the weakest. It was only fair. That's how I met Professor Xavier."

"What de heck was he doin' in a foreign orphanage?"

"Oh, he didn't come to the orphanage. No. There was… Well, Xavier was there on work. You know what kind of work he does. He found himself trapped in a cave and unable to call for help. A man who used to work at the orphanage would take me to that cave sometimes. Xavier and I helped each other out of a bad situation. He offered to bring me to the States, and my parents accepted."

"Where are your parents now?"

"My mother used to visit me at the orphanage. I know she was killed, but my father is lost to me."

Momma had tears in her eyes. She hugged Tess so tightly that my friend was paralyzed.

"Poor _tite fille_! _We're_ your family now."

.::.

The snow melted and the sun began making longer appearances. The flowers meekly re-emerged in tiny blossoms, defiant against the winter chill. Rogue's belly expanded. The twins grew a little more every day, and she had renewed enthusiasm to conquer her powers. She was doing therapy with Ms. Frost and mental examinations with Professor Xavier. Papa had become something of a hermit. We saw him when it was time to eat or undergo therapy with Ms. Frost and Rogue, but he had a lot of unexplained missing time. I took Momma's cue not to investigate. She switched her major to accounting, and seemed to enjoy it. She said she'd been keeping the books for the Red-Headed Stepchild (her bar in New Orleans), and this seemed like a natural progression. Inevitably, she began balancing Papa's accounts, too.

"LeBeau!" She snapped at him one day while filling out her logs. "What de hell is dis?"

"Belle, you said you would help. Hasslin' me ain't very helpful."

He was on his way to therapy, and already looked exhausted. I gave him a hug, but he didn't seem to notice I was even in the room.

"I don' mind a miscellaneous expense here an' dere, but dis totals up t' almost half a million dollars. De IRS is gonna want an answer."

"I promise I'll have an answer by tax time."

"You know its next month, _oui_?"

He walked away. I felt stunned. For one, why didn't he acknowledge me? Secondly, I had no idea he had that kind of money.

…

Personally, I seemed to find my stride. My grades were at the top, and there was discussion of promoting me to the ninth grade next year. I worked extra hard to make the effort appear easy. I wanted to be in the same grade as Tess, but Papa was worried about my health. Since our return from Scotland, I'd only had one episode. It was stress induced, and he thought too much pressure would push me into another relapse.

There were a number of rumors circulating about me. One was that I was "with" Tess, but this rumor didn't gain much momentum. It was old news, and discouraged by the teachers. Another rumor, one I actually put faith in, was that Logan had a squad already picked out for me. I couldn't imagine he liked any team well enough to assign me this early. I didn't really care where he assigned me, either, as long as it wasn't my father's squad and I was with Tess.

I was worried about Papa. I had a terrible feeling that something bad was about to happen to him, but I didn't understand why.

One day after ethics, I had the impulse to stay behind. Eventually, the classroom emptied until I was alone with Ms. Frost.

"Miss LeBeau, is something the matter?"

"It's my father."

She pressed her lips. The bell rung and the next group of students entered.

"Come to my office between four and five today."

I didn't understand why, but I had the sudden urge to act on this premonition. I felt my mind submitting to my powers again. I was slightly concerned, but decided to let this impulse direct me. My powers couldn't be _all_ bad.

I barely remember my classes, but I was at Ms. Frost's office five minutes early. The door was locked and it was dark inside, so I waited on the bench.

I heard her heels clicking down the hallway like a drum solo. Her arms were full of books and papers, and she carried a heavy bag on her shoulder. She bore the burden gracefully, and didn't rush for my sake.

"Come on in, honey," she said without looking at me.

We entered the office. It was the same room formerly occupied by Ms. Grey, and I felt a chill.

She closed the door and took her seat behind the desk.

"So what's up?"

"I can't explain it, but I know my father's in danger. And I don't know why, but somet'ing told me t' tell you."

She watched me evenly. For a long time, we just looked at each other without speaking. I wondered if she was trying to read my mind, but didn't ask.

Ms. Frost is a stunningly beautiful woman. All the boys openly discussed their sexual desire for her, which I found revolting. I know it must've been even harder for her, since she could hear their _thoughts_, too. She was very beautiful, yes, but I wasn't aroused by the sight of her.

Like everyone else, I had seen her cleavage and smelled her perfume. Her pants clung in a way that left nothing to be imagined. Her skin was flawless; her lips full and begging to be kissed. I wished I had her hair: perfectly blonde and smooth as liquid. But that was all I wanted from her.

I looked around the office. She had erected a large portrait of Ms. Grey, which I thought was a little tasteless.

Why did I think that?

It was sweet.

She'd replaced the books with more provocative literature, and the pictures were completely absent.

"Why don't you have any pictures of Mr. Summers?" I asked without realizing I was even speaking. It was the _same thing_ I'd asked Ms. Grey!

My blood ran cold. The full awareness of the situation struck me like a truck. My mind was trying to revert to a time when Ms. Grey was still alive, so I could correct my mistakes. I was losing it! Sobbing hysterically, I rocked back and forth. For a moment, I'd truly forgotten where I was. I'd been feeling funny all day. I should've told my parents and taken my meds. I should not have surrendered control of my mind and actions. I should've known better.

"Honor? Honey, take a seat." She got up and helped me to a chair. "Why are you so upset?"

"I forgot who you were."

"Who did you think I was?"

"I didn't _think_. I just said it. I said de same t'ing t' Ms. Grey!"

"You saw her picture and remembered a prior conversation," she squeezed my hand and smiled kindly. "That's nothing to get worked up about."

"You don't know what it's like! I can't just say t'ings! I can't just _do_ t'ings! I gotta – I gotta-"

"Focus! Now listen to me and do as I say. We're going to converse, you and I. Don't be afraid to say what you're resisting."

I stopped fighting the urge to spew word salad. There was someone else inside me trying to speak, so I let it. "A picture isn't as inappropriate as screwin' wit' his _head_."

I heard myself gasp and covered my mouth.

Ms. Frost looked at me for a long time. My eyes held hers: waiting for admonishment that never came.

Instead, she said: "You're a precog. I know this is frightening for you. Remember what I said when you first came here? We can't help you unless you're honest with us. I know there are people who won't understand, Honor, but you don't ever need to hold your tongue around me. Now tell me about Gambit."

"He's in great danger," I heard my voice say. "Before Gemini rises, a woman in blue will destroy him."

I clamped my mouth shut, denying these frightful words existence.

"Who?" Ms. Frost pressed.

"Someone he trusts."

"What does she want with him?"

"She wants him dead."

I felt Ms. Frost gently pulling strings in my mind, tuning the images and sensations like an instrument until she produced the sound she wanted. I felt the strange, disconnected voice suddenly click with my mind. The great knowing thing inside me came out of its cage and filled me. It didn't hurt, but I suddenly knew more than I wanted to. I tried to accept the understanding.

"Can you see her face?"

"She's gonna destroy us," I began to cry again. "We ain't got a chance. She's smart… ruthless… relentless."

"So am I."

.::.

Until my new power levels stabilized, I was confined to my bed at home and left under my parent's watch. Ms. Frost was worried I'd be flooded with visions, but I only Saw for those physically closest to me. Predictably, my father found it unbearable to be still around me. He moved in and out of my room like a trapped fly trying to find an opening.

"Why're you actin' like dis?" I asked him. "Maybe it'll help if you just sit – Papa! You had sex with a _nun_?"

"Pillow!" he said. "You need another pillow."

And he was gone again.

"No worries, sugah," Rogue said, propping her feet up. "He's been like this for a while now. I'm sure it ain't got nothin' to do with you."

"Maybe he's tryin' t' avoid _you_," I said without thinking. I covered my mouth.

"What do you know? Rotten brat."

She left me with a fashion magazine.

Momma sat with me all evening. We played cards and watched television. When it was time for supper, Papa made a brief appearance. He brought us both a plate and disappeared again.

"No worries," I grumbled after him. "I won't _intrude_ on your life."

I thought bitterly about Rogue and the twins eating with him while Momma and I were pushed aside. He lived in his own little world with his new family. Momma and I were parasites who constantly stole his time.

"You know your father loves you," Momma said weakly. "He's just scared. Ain't a feelin' he's particularly comfortable wit'."

"It's ironic, really. He and Rogue are mutants, but _dey're_ afraid of me."

"It ain't you, _petite_. T'ought you were supposed to know dat wit' your gypsy tricks."

I smiled at her. "Eat your vegetables."

"Dat man knows I don't eat greens," she said as she shoveled them onto my plate. "Dunno _what_ he was thinkin'."

"Rogue doesn't want de twins t' look like mutants," I said.

"_Mais_, it's easy for her to dink dat now. De babies are just a t'ought right now. But trust me, as soon as she sees dem, holds dem… She won't care what dey are. I know because I been dere, too. When I was heavy wit' you, I use to pray: 'Oh dear Lawd, please don't give my youngin' her papa's nose!'"

"His _nose_? Not de eyes?"

"I loved his eyes. It was de nose I didn't want to pass on. But once I saw you, I loved everyt'ing about you. Didn't matter t' me if you were bald or had six arms or shot fire outta your nose every time you sneezed. Dere ain't nothin' you could do or be dat make me love you any less. You're _ma_ _fille_."

I knew we weren't talking about appearances or mutations anymore. We were talking about Tess. She gave me a boost of confidence, and at the same time made me feel very vulnerable. My mother, while always honest and brave, was rarely sentimental. I felt compelled to tell her about Tess, but since she already knew, I shared another secret instead.

"I want you t' know, Momma… I don't blame you for all dem years wit'out Papa. You were right. I don't need him de way I need you."


	2. Ain't What You Got

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Broken Chains**

**Chapter Two: Ain't What You Got**

_Love is what you want when you want somebody.  
What do you want when you got somebody?  
It ain't what you got, you gave it all up._

_- Give, Crowfield_

"Frost," Gambit said through the communicator outside her room, "A word?"

"Busy, Cajun."

"Get your damn clothes on, _femme_, and get out here. I ain't got all day."

There was a pause and then she opened the door. Although she only wore a white thong, she leaned easily against the doorframe and waited for him to enter. He brushed against her as he walked into her room, which was dark and smelled of sex. The bed sheets were disheveled, with all the pillows knocked to the ground. She hadn't tried to conceal her activities very well, but he suspected that was her game. She was either flaunting her conquest or trying to annoy him with her sexuality, knowing Rogue was so inaccessible. Not bothering to cover her bare breasts, she sat in front of an eight-foot high mirror and brushed her flawless, platinum hair. Her partner was in the adjacent bathroom taking a shower.

"Cyke don't mind you lettin' in men lookin' like dat?" asked Gambit, "Or is your relationship not dat serious?"

"Tsk, tsk, honey. You're starting to sound like Wolverine. Besides, I _know_ this how you've always imagined me."

"I didn't come for sloppy seconds. I came t' tell you t' keep outta Honor's head. I know you t'ink you were helpin' her, but de point of her _bein' here_ is t' figure t'ings out for herself. You feedin' her all de answers ain't _helpin'_ her at all. It's makin' her dependent on you, and no one needs dat."

Emma set down her hair brush and looked at him, sitting forward slightly so that her breasts looked larger. "You're not _interested_ in her vision? It concerned you and a woman who wants you dead. Could be your next wife."

Gambit heard the shower turn off and then the curtain pull back. Unless he wanted to risk an eyeful of Scott naked and then an earful about the impropriety of being "alone" with Emma in her bedroom, he didn't have time for her games.

"Stay outta her head. I ain't tellin' you again."

…

I waited for Papa down the hall and around the corner. If he was concerned about my premonition, he never showed it. This confrontation with Ms. Frost was the first he'd spoken about it, and I was eager to share my knowledge with him. He'd been avoiding me for days, but now he was apparently ready to discuss it.

"Jesus!" he gasped when he rounded the corner and saw me. "What're you doin' in de instructors' hall?"

"I – I-" Why was he so angry to see me? "I wanted to talk to you. About my vision."

"You ain't s'post t' be here! Jesus Christ, do you have t' follow me around like-!"

I turned and ran.

"_Petite_, wait!"

I didn't speak to him for two days. The guilt ate at my belly like an ingested worm. He only seemed relieved to be rid of me. I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel. Momma tried to compensate for his absence, as usual. It was easier done without his interference: the way he'd walk through a room without speaking to me or talk to Rogue _about_ me as if I were a ghost. Momma constantly told me not to be disrespectful, and I began to resent her positive outlook. I wanted her to hate him with me.

The second day the sun set on my anger, I _had_ to get away. I crawled out my window onto the roof.

One thing Louisiana and New York have in common: retractable weather. In New Orleans, it's not at all uncommon to have a hot day peak in between a cold week. Winter might creep in and fade away like an uninvited guest. I discovered that in New York, spring was the party crasher. It already made a brief appearance, but now the snow returned. During the day, the sun bravely beat down white chunks of snow into water puddles. The sky was blue and full of pleasant white clouds. But at night, the water froze again. I watched twilight birth the battle of the elements. Stars emerged and twinkled like frozen diamonds. The cold night showed no mercy to my exposed arms and neck. I perversely enjoyed the pain: both inside and out.

Tante Ro was circling the school property on frigid winds. We noticed each other simultaneously, and she dropped to sit beside me.

"Child, why ever are you out here alone? Where is your coat?"

The air around me warmed.

"Neat trick," I commented.

"What is it about the night that calls to us?" She looked up and away. "I defy any creature to resist the lure of the Moon Goddess. One cannot help but yearn for her protection from the all-seeing Sun. She is the one who gives us the freedom to rest. We are free under Her. I do believe that is why your father feels such attachment to the night. She alone has accepted him as he is."

"Tryin' t' make me feel _sorry_ for him?"

Before anymore was said, we heard a scream in the distance. A woman. In the forest.

Tante Ro and I leapt to our feet. She is as graceful as a gazelle and never stumbles. If she ever did, she had the winds to lift her without incident. I had no such skill. Worse, when she warmed me, the snow under me melted. The sudden shift in weight loosened my footing, and I slipped with all the grace of a three-legged elephant. I flew off the roof before the panic set in and slammed onto the snowy ground.

"Honor! Are you alright?"

"Fine, Tante Ro," I groaned. A sharp pain shot through my legs and I blacked out.

…

When I re-emerged from my pain induced slumber, I found Momma sitting on my bed. Her bright blue eyes were surrounded by a lot of white and worry.

"Hank! She's awake!"

He calmly approached and smiled. "Trying to set a record, Miss LeBeau?"

"Bet no one's ever been expelled for too many hospital visits, huh?"

He laughed jovially. "My good friend, Bobby Drake, once attempted to get expelled for freezing the entire sick ward, and in those days, I was much more nonchalant. I recall finding the incident quite comical. If expulsion is your goal, I can assure you _that's_ the method to use."

Rogue slowly came into view. "Hey, sugah, how ya feelin'?"

"Okay, I guess." I looked to Dr. McCoy.

"No lasting damage," he said with a broad smile. "You will be a little sore in the coming days, but if you experience any stiffness or numbness, let me know immediately. I'll give Ms. Belle some medicine to help with the pain, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon."

I looked around the room.

"Where's Papa?"

Momma and Rogue looked guiltily at each other, silently exchanging some secret.

"Ororo says dere was a scream before you fell," said Momma. "Turns out, it was a young lady bein' hunted by some friends."

"_Friends_ _of_ _Humanity_," Dr. McCoy corrected.

"Right. She was headed towards de school for protection."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"Oh, _oui, chere_. A little shaken, but you know your father's always willin' t' help a damsel in distress."

"Is _dat_ where he is?" I pressed, returning to my original question.

Rogue and Dr. McCoy looked at the floor in silence. The anger crept up my throat like a burning snake. I wanted to explode in rage and die with sorrow at the same time.

"Why is he wit' _her_?"

"Calm down," Momma snapped in that 'don't-you-dare-embarrass-me' tone. "He came by t' see how you were, but dere ain't nothin' he could do f' you. Dat's Dr. McCoy's job. Foxx needs t' be debriefed and enrolled, and dat's somet'ing he can do."

I could have told my mother that "Foxx" had many teachers to assist her, but I had only one father. She would have responded that I needed to grow up; my father couldn't always be around to hold my hand. I would have asked her how she could always take his side. Instead, I decided to end the argument prematurely. The end result would be the same: he would not see me. Rogue would scold him until he felt like a speckle. Momma would hate him a little more, but keep it hidden. All her hate would never deter her loyalty from my father. Why? He had never shown _her_ such dependability.

Twenty minutes later, I left the sick ward.

Papa was standing in the hall with his back to me. He had come to see me after all! I wanted to run to him, throw my arms around him. All would be forgiven. Then I saw that he was only speaking Ms. Frost. _She_ had come to see me, and he had come to stop her. They froze upon my presence.

"Ah, just the young lady I was looking for," Ms. Frost said.

"How you feelin'?" Gambit asked me.

"No worries. A little let-down won't finish me off." I felt the anger rise again. I hoped he would catch the double-meaning and snap at me. If he did, he said nothing. I turned to Ms. Frost as if he weren't there. "You want me t' meet Foxx and tell you if she's de Judas. Gambit objects and you won't ask for my help wit'out his permission." I don't know why, but my voice struggled to continue. "I know why people here don't trust you. You've done terrible things, hurt people I love. But I trust you."

Her poker face is flawless.

My father, on the other hand, let his temper speak for him. "De poor t'ing's already been subjected to every telepath in de school! Dis s'post t' be a place for second chances, and here we are, accusin' people a' dings we _know_ dey ain't done yet."

"You don't trust her either?" said Ms. Frost.

"I don't trust _nobody_. But what if she only betrays us because we expect it? Life's meant t' be lived moving forward, not backwards."

"Dat's what dis is really about, ain't it?" I asked breathlessly. "It **offends** you dat I'm a precog!"

Once again, Momma was there to do damage-control. "You can't take evert'ing so personally, _chere_. Your Papa knows you can't help what you are. It don't matter, anyway, he always gonna love you."

"Nothin' good ever came from a fortune teller," Papa muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Whatever secret reason my mother had to explain her loyalty to Papa vanished. Cursing, she threw punches at him until Ms. Frost separated them. My eyes were filled with tears, but I never saw him raise a hand in his own defense. I think he knew he'd crossed the line. After Ms. Frost escorted Gambit out of our sight, I lead my mother to her room in the guest hall.

"I'm sorry, _cherie_," She said, shaking all over. "I shouldn'ta done dat in front a' you. You know I love your father. He just makes me so _mad_ sometimes."

"Its okay, Momma. You don't have to love him all de time. I don't."

"You don't mean dat," She was only trying to convince herself. She knew perfectly well how _much_ I meant it! "If you didn't love him, he couldn't hurt you."

.::.

I didn't need special powers to learn about Foxx. The rumors began immediately. At first, the gossip was harsh: she was a runaway, a former prostitute, and immature for her age. But after she was given a chance to prove herself, the words became kinder: she was intelligent, great with weapons, and had a quirky sense of humor. She was placed on my father's squad at his request. I made a point to avoid him and his students, but I knew when they drilled. Tess and I went to one of their practices during our study hall. Of course, I knew the team would be there, but I had prepared other excuses: the weather was lovely, my homework was caught up, and most of my classmates were at the field, too. I was only fooling myself.

Nate and Uri joined us on the bleachers, and the lot of us gossiped. Uri had befriended a new student named Ethan Fong, who later joined us, and we made an effort to include him for Uri's sake.

Ethan was in the same grade as Nate, and my friend was secretly glad to have an associate his own age. They were both handsome and clever, but that's where the similarities ended. Whereas Nate was quiet and insightful, Ethan was aggressive and spontaneous. Nate regarded his friendships sacred, and took a duty to guide and protect us. He gladly sacrificed his own honor for mine, making clear his platonic feelings. Ethan, on the other hand, had no qualms about tearing the other guys down and flirting with me.

"You've got such a pretty laugh," he told me. "Are you always this bubbly? Or is it just because of me?"

I blushed furiously and laughed again. He was quite handsome – in an understated way. His hair was black and inky, his skin unblemished and milky, and his body slender and tall. His most striking feature was his eyes: a bright and burning violent outlined in deep indigo. Whenever he looked at me, it was like watching the sun rise. My soul burned from exposure. I would remember his eyes all the days of my life.

"Scale it back, man," said Nate, "She's **twelve**."

He choked. "Shut up!"

I nodded.

"Jeez, and here I thought the boys kept away because of your father! If I were him, I'd lock you away in a tower."

Everyone laughed except for Tess.

"That's her," Tess looked away, and we all followed her eyes to the field entrance.

Foxx.

I knew as soon as I saw her. She was tall and sleek. Beneath that sickly pale skin I could see scalped muscles and an evil smirk. Her hair was turquoise and styled like a wig: waist-length with cropped bangs. She had strangely orange eyes that challenged everything. Her chosen look wasn't much more flattering: black lipstick on a wide mouth, huge moon-shaped earrings, and a midnight-blue leather uniform. Her boots were imitation combat boots that scaled her calves and ended at knee pads.

"Is she _dressed_ like Gambit?" Ethan was the first to comment.

Uri said to Nate: "Guess we'll have to get you some white leather pants and a cape."

"Fine, but I'm not wearing a brassiere."

"She ain't even _pretty_!" I steamed.

"A cross between an eel and a crow!" said Uri.

"And a _student_…" Nate added.

"I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole," Ethan said.

My friends were so great. I could always count on _them_ to be petty with me, unlike Momma. Tess was quiet, as usual. She rubbed my back but said nothing.

"You're right," I told her. "Need t' keep my cool."

She smiled.

Just as the rage subsided, Uri said: "Is the bitch _waving_ at us?"

She was! With one arm wrapped around my father's, she lifted the other to wave at us. Her lips curved knowingly. I wanted to rip her apart.

"Where's the plane?" Nate said coolly.

The five of us stared daggers at her, but she pretended not to notice.

The squad started with some stretches and a lap around the field. Unlike some of the other instructors, who merely bark out orders, my father works with his team. He never asks more from them than he is willing and able to do himself. It inspires loyalty from them.

Nick had been with my father the longest, and was leader by seniority. Like all the other boys, he idolized Gambit. Foxx's blind admiration of my father only enhanced him in the eyes of his squad. I thought Nick was a little too soft to be team leader. The other members had too much control, especially Sidney. Poor Sidney had a rough childhood, even by Xavier Academy students' standard. He never spoke to me directly about his past, but the trauma was evident by his mutant abilities and in his mental instability. Carl was the exact opposite of Sidney. Just like his water powers, Carl was tranquil and pleasant. He didn't adore my father so much as he accepted him – just like the gently moving creek accepts the beavers dam.

If there was a theme to Gambit's squad, it was that all the members were obviously mutants. The final member, Roxy, was no exception. She and I had a lot in common, although never seemed to get along. She, too, was born into a wealthy and dangerous family, and had to fight for the respect freely given to normal, pretty girls. Even when other students mocked her rocky exterior, she was the most level-headed member.

By comparison, Foxx looked positively _gorgeous_.

Another trait my father appreciated in his students was agility and cleverness. The other instructors had impressed upon him the importance of having a well-rounded team. They wanted a telepath, someone who could fly, someone with super-human strength, and a team leader who was dependable and honest.

Not Gambit.

He wanted the rejects. As a result, his team wanted to prove him right. They worked harder than anyone else for the same results. They didn't need to follow the rules. They could have a disadvantage and still succeed.

A few minutes of training told me that Foxx did not fit that mold.

She wanted to fit in. She didn't want to impress Gambit with her hard work and determination, but with her talent and flattery. At first, the team tried to make up for her slack. It didn't take long for the cracks to begin. Gambit ended the session by asking his team for patience and understanding. It would take time for Foxx to find her place. The team retreated to the lockers, and the spectators moved on to their next classes.

I saw Gambit moving in my direction, but couldn't get away quickly enough.

"Honor! Come 'ere!"

I contemplated ignoring him. Tess gave me a look.

"I'll catch up wit' ya'll," I told my friends. I hung back through the exodus until my father and I were alone. I pressed my lips together, determined to keep quiet.

"Who's dat new kid?" He asked casually, filling a paper cup with water and throwing it on his face.

"Ethan? I don't know anyt'ing about him. He's in Nate's class, I think."

"Dat boy got no business talkin' t' you. He's too old."

"He's de same age as Nate! You got no problems wit' _him_!"

"I know where Nate sleeps at night."

"Do you know where _Foxx_ sleeps?"

I felt the anger building in me again. There was no calming down, no keeping my cool. I was blind with rage, my vision literally slipping from view. He turned and looked at me. It was the first time he'd looked at me – really _looked_ at me – in days. The red in his eyes glowed.

"What did you say, _little girl_?"

Something about the way he said "little girl". He usually said it with such affection, but now it was poison. He meant to demean me with what use to be love.

I shook with unvented rage.

He approached me like a snake to a cornered mouse. His shadow engulfed me, leaving me nowhere to run. I could smell the anger radiating off his skin. Those hands that had once clung to my last drops of life now wanted to hurt me.

"You listen t' me good, 'cause I'm only sayin' it once," he seethed. "I ain't gonna risk my career and my marriage on your overactive imagination. You don't talk about my past _or_ my future wit' anyone. _D'accord_?"

"That's all you care about, isn't it? Rogue and these _stupid_ _students_ who worship you! Only I know who you _really_ are! I _HATE_ you!" I shouted for the world to hear. Then I turned and sprinted off the field, past my friends waiting in the yard, through the halls where Mr. Summers shouted at me to slow down, to my mother's room.

.::.

"I'd like to thank you all for the hard work you put into this latest test," Dr. McCoy told the room while passing out papers. "I think you'll find your work reflected in your grades."

"Is that _sarcasm_?" asked Maxwell Jordan. "'Cause I didn't even crack the book for this one!"

"And that's reflected in your grade," Dr. McCoy said, handing Max his test. "And the highest score goes to-"

"_Tess_," supplied Dallas Gibson.

"No," our instructor replied. "Although she did very well, as always. But the highest score goes to Miss LeBeau."

There was a scattered applause, led by Uri. My face burned, but this was secretly a much-needed boost to my confidence. Of course, it wasn't long before Bethany Burbins jumped at the chance to take me down a notch. "She's a psychic! If she _didn't_ get the highest score, it's because she had someone take the test _for_ her!"

"Yeah?" Uri challenged lightly. "Well, I'm a _Jew_, and it doesn't seem to help _me_ out at all."

Bethany's stupid little side-kick Andrea Margulies added her two cents: "You're dense by _any_ standard! I don't know _how_ you can spend so much time with the smartest people in class, and not have any of it rub off onto you!"

Now I was pissed! I rounded on her and half leapt from my seat. "Why don't you ask _Bethany_ to explain it to you? You're _so_ _lucky_ to have a friend who knows _everyt'ing_! Den she can explain how de school's anti-cheating systems only work for telepaths, and even if they _did_ work against psychics, the teachers would pass me anyway because of my father!"

"Alright, Miss LeBeau, Miss Margulies – that's enough."

"Oh!" I added, "And while she's at it, ask her why my grades are better than Nate's! I'm sure she's got a great theory about how I _sleep_ with the teachers to pass!"

"_Miss LeBeau_," Dr. McCoy said firmly.

I sat down and fixed my hair. "Sorry, Dr. McCoy. Just thought I'd save Andrea the trouble of catching everyone in de hallway and tell dem what she'll be sayin' later."

…

After classes, I worked on my homework in the library with Tess and Uri. Normally, Tess would verify our work for errors, but Ms. Frost assigned her some extra classes this semester. She handled the load as well as she could, but no longer had the patience for Uri and me.

"I can't pass without you giving me all the answers!" he told her.

"If our grades start to slip," I said, "Andrea will say the teachers' have been exposed thanks to her loose lips."

"Yeah," said Uri, "I'm sure her _gossipin'_ will have the X-Men shaking in their boots!"

That evening, Momma wasn't in her room, so I went looking for her in Papa and Rogue's room. I could smell jambalaya cooking on the hot plate. A small dinner table was set for four. I closed the door and proceeded through the small hallway into the only room, excluding an adjacent bathroom. Rogue was topless, laying front-down on the mattress while Momma rubbed her back.

"Should I give ya'll a moment?"

They laughed.

"Be a dear and get de wine out of de cooler, will you?" Momma said without stopping her task. "Poor t'ing, all knotted up." She said to Rogue. "I remember dese days. Your back hurts all de time, leg cramps, sore ankles, and not a t'ing t' be done about it."

Rogue groaned. "If this dinner goes the wrong way, Ah'm gonna dump him and keep you. Gawd, Belle, thank you."

She sat up, crossing her arms to cover her chest until she could fully cover. From the corner of my eye, I saw her swollen belly. Well into her second trimester, she could no longer conceal her condition. I saw something press out from beneath her skin and then recede. I couldn't suppress a gasp.

Rogue laughed at me. "Frightening, isn't it? Ain't nothin' about this that's beautiful or natural. They're moving, if you want to feel."

I moved towards her cautiously. I don't know why, but I felt a sudden premonition of dread.

"It's okay, sugah. Thanks to Emma, I've just about got mah powers under control."

Not wanting to be rude, and being naturally curious, I forced myself to put a hand on her occupied womb. There was a little pressure that came and went against my palm.

"Is dat dem? It's barely noticeable."

"They like you," Rogue smiled at me, and I at her. For a moment, I felt like I had my friend back. The wicked stepmother was gone.

Our brief feeling of euphoria disappeared when Gambit didn't show for dinner. Momma divided the food, but we were all too angry to keep anything down. So we sat in silence and watched our food get cold.

8:32 p.m.

He finally showed up.

"What's all dis?"

The three of us looked at each other, wondering who had the right to the first blow.

"Where the hell have you been?" Rogue started.

"Look, if I'd known de two of you wanted a romantic dinner, I woulda found a sitter."

"You ain't funny, LeBeau!" Momma snapped. "Your family's fallin' apart, and we need you to pick up de slack!"

"Ah'm sick of always bein' left behind!"

"_I'm_ sick of always bein' left out!" shouted Momma.

I was angry as hell with my father, but I couldn't bear to watch him get crucified.

"Hey, let's everybody chill," I said. "Dis ain't what we wanted t' say. Now, we all got t'ings dat-"

"I guess Gambit's just s'post t' be everyt'ing t' everyone!" my father interrupted.

Initially, we were stunned. Once the shock wore off, my evil stepmother re-emerged. Rogue and Momma hurled their insults. Gambit responded, but the words were lost in the ensuing battle. I sat down and kept quiet. If the three of them came to blows, I knew I'd be collateral damage. Best to stay out of it.

Finally, there was a pause.

"Get in de car!" Gambit demanded. "All of ya'll!"

He left.

The three of us looked at each other, and reluctantly followed. No one said a word as we grabbed our coats and loaded into the BMW Sedan Gambit had recently purchased. Earlier, Rogue told him the motorcycle wasn't car-seat friendly, and he needed to consider a mini-van. Refusing to conform, he beat her to the finish line with a vehicle he could still be proud of. The car could easily accommodate the twins and their parents, but there wouldn't be room for me. Just the way they wanted it. Rogue rode shot gun, and Momma and I sat in the back. No one spoke or sighed or even asked to turn the radio on. We just rode in silence out of Salem Center, away from the city. We stayed on the interstate for half an hour, and then turned off to a part of the state I was unfamiliar with. A sign told me:

Welcome to

Poughkeepsie, New York.

Momma and I looked at each other. We looked back out the windows at our surroundings. It was too dark to adequately make any distinctions. For the next ten minutes, we saw only trees.

Rogue fell asleep.

Finally, Momma said, "If you're plannin' t' kill us, be quick about it, LeBeau. Don't know how much further you need t' go."

We hit a bump and Rogue awoke with a start.

"Ah gotta pee."

"We're almost dere," Papa said, gripping the steering wheel.

"Ah gotta pee _now_, Remy!"

"You wanna stop here? In de middle a' nowhere?"

She surveyed the area and sighed. "Guess Ah've had worse…"

"We ain't stoppin' here!" Momma shrieked. "Dere's mountain lions and bears out here. Dis woman is carrin' your youngin's, and you couldn't plan our road trip any better? _Mon Dieu_!"

"I could leave ya'll here, and no one would ever know. Don't tempt me, _femme_! Don't tempt me!"

"T'ink you can take me, _homme_? _Allons_, _m' ami_!"

The car came to a sudden halt. For a moment, I really expected my parents to come to blows.

Rogue looked out the window and said: "Ah don't think they'll take kindly t' me usin' their facilities."

Distracted by the unexpected appearance of a mansion in the middle of nowhere, the three of us forgot our spat and peered out the window.

"What is dis place? A country club?" Momma asked.

"Get out!" He snapped before exiting. The door slammed after him.

The three of us got out of the car and looked at the building we were parked by. It was an enormous place atop a low hill. I could hear frogs in the background: indicating water was nearby, although I didn't initially see any.

"You t'ink a round a' _golf_ is gonna solve our problems?" I asked.

"Take a good look, you blood-sucking loves of my life. Anyt'ing look familiar?"

The three of us obeyed, and I think we all came to same realization at the same time. Finally, I exclaimed: "Dat's my tower!"

"And mah balcony."

"And my porch. LeBeau!"

"Dat's right," he said bitterly. "While de _trios_ a' you been snoppin' around in my trashcan, sure as saints dat I'm a no account dead-beat, I been putting all m' time and money into _dis_! Tryin' t' make your dreams come true-"

"Oh, Remy!" Rogue threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shirt.

Momma put most of her weight on my shoulder. I held her until she composed herself again, and then I hugged my father and Rogue. Momma joined us, too, and I felt the twins kicking. Cheesy as it was, the love was sincere. I felt proud to be a part of my family: possibly for the very first time.

Rogue broke away to wipe her face. "Now please tell me the toilets work, 'cause Ah still have to pee."

She found a place to relieve herself, and then Papa gave us a very informal tour. The house exterior was white with black shutters and a wrap-around porch. The stairs leading up to the front double-doors were moderate in quality, and I noticed a wheel-chair ramp discretely on the side. The floors inside were carpeted in a soft cream. The walls were a forgettable shade of off-white that begged to be colored. But the house had a fun, sort-of art deco theme. Around the stairs, the walls stretched straight up to the roof. The large, open area felt like a cathedral. But in the smaller downstairs rooms, the walls had random rectangles in random sizes cut through. The downstairs restroom was hidden under the staircase. Very quirky and original, I thought. Momma was the first to notice there were two kitchens, on opposite sides of the house. Both were fully equipped, with the extra bonus of a breakfast nook over-looking the lake in the backyard. Papa said he wanted Momma and Rogue to feel as comfortable as possible, and he thought the best way to accomplish this was to add kitchens and bathrooms. The main sitting room was enormous. Thus far, it was barren except for a large stone fireplace. I noticed a narrow door almost hidden on the side. Sneaking through like Alice in Wonderland, I found a small, carpeted room with a low and wide ceiling. There was a large window facing the front lawn, but the room itself was too small and hidden to be anything conventional.

"Dat's for your piano," Papa said from the doorway.

I was too shocked to speak. I couldn't even acknowledge him.

"Your room's t'rough dere." He pointed to a second narrow door conspicuously placed in the piano's room. It led to an iron spiral staircase with steep steps.

"Maybe you should wait to go up dere, _cherie_," Momma warned.

The power wasn't on yet, and we were working by moonlight and Papa's make-shift light of a charged playing card that he held gently between his fore and middle fingers. I hesitated, but proceeded. Papa followed to light my way; Momma and Rogue stayed behind. At the top of the staircase was another door. The room was cozy. The ceiling was angled like the inside of a witch's hat. Papa could've hidden the tower peak, but I liked seeing the thick wooden planks come together like a star. Since it was a tower, the room was round. The sole window was large, and also circular. The glass was stained with iron in-lays.

"Can you see de picture?" Papa asked.

"No."

He knelled on the little nook below the window and put the light closer. The most obvious feature was the shades of blue and green, all in different hues and shapes. Snaking through the aqua-marines and emeralds and sapphires was a bright copper river. A ruby eighth note was dead center. It was so beautiful.

"It's Nawlins," I whispered. "I can't wait t' show Tess!"

"Opens, too."

He lifted the latch and the window swung in and to the side. He closed the window and sat down in the nook underneath.

"I need t' talk t' you, _catin_." His eyes darkened and his presence faded. "T'ings ain't de way dey were in Valle Soleada… Wish dey could be, but dey ain't. I'm an X-Man, and dat requires a lot. I know you don't like dat. I got my students t' mind. I'm married, too, and dat ain't been a cake walk. Now come de summer, we'll have two little ones. Sometimes I t'ink I'm drownin', _chere_."

I wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. So I sat silently with my hands clasped.

"I know you been gettin' de short end a' de stick, so t' say," he continued, "Ain't 'cause I don't love you. And I'm sorry t' say t'ings'll probably get worse before dey get better. But I'm hopin' de house will help. I'm really tryin' here, _petite_." He let his charged card disintegrate.

We sat in silent darkness. I listened to my new home, smelled it, felt it.

"When I was a pup," he said quietly, "I had t' fight for everyt'ing. Didn't have a room or a house or parents. Never even went t' school. I told m'self my kids would get better. Dat's all I want, just a _chance_ t' give you a better hand…"

Through the darkness, I saw him smile weakly, and offered my own brave smile.

"But all I got t' give you is _merde_. You're so much smarter den I was at your age," he told me. "Won't be long before you're smarter den I am now, and I won't have anyt'ing else t' give you. I try t' be dere for you. And I t'ink you're smart enough t' know I need your help, too. You're de glue dat holds us all t'gether, 'On. You start spreadin' malcontent, and we'll all fall apart."

"When I'm nice, you ignore me," I said quietly. "Its better t' be hated den forgotten."

"You're right, but I don't forget about you, _catin_." He was silent for a moment. "I ain't been particularly greatat too many t'ings lately. You forgive me?"

My heart lurched. I threw my arms around his neck like I'd wanted to do for days now, and he returned my hug. It was impossible to stay mad at him.

"Den let's see de rest a' de house."

He lit another card, and we carefully descended the stairs. Back through the living room and up the grand staircase to the second story. The second floor was divided into two wings: each with a master bedroom and a bathroom. The master bedrooms each had a vanity. Each wing also had an additional two rooms, and the wings were divided by a large room with built-in book cases and a marble floor. Momma's room had a walk-in closet. Her long, narrow windows set far apart with a fold-out desk built into the wall between them.

"Whadda you gonna do with your extra rooms?" I asked her.

"Move m' concubines in, I reckon."

We followed the wooden floors down to Papa's side, but I didn't ask him what his extra rooms would be used for. It seemed obvious to me. Instead of a walk-in closet, the master bedroom had a tiny, adjacent room that was too small to be anything other than a nursery or storage room. Like the other rooms, the would-be nursery was unpainted, but sported a chair-rail.

"Oh, it's so sweet!" Rogue exclaimed, folding her hands under her chin. "A little nursery for mah little babies."

"Nursery? _Non_, dis is m' doghouse. You kick me out, I ain't got far t' go."

Rogue inspected the room's tiny closet and then peaked out the high window. "That'll keep the sunlight out for most of the day," she commented with approval.

"Give us _plenty_ a' time t' get 'm back in de coffins."

"Remy, this is **real**. We're **really** doin' this. Ah thought you didn't want..."

Her voice shook, and Papa put his arms around her.

Momma pushed me into the master bedroom, and we explored it together. Even without paint or furniture, it was a regal room. Like all the other rooms, it had a high ceiling and large windows. Only then did I realize that all the windows were different shapes and sizes: mine and the twins being the most obviously distinct. The master bedroom had a walk-in closet, fully equipped adjacent bathroom, and - of course - a balcony.

There were strange details about the room I couldn't quite understand. For one, the room had columns. Very grand, but not really Papa's taste. Also, there were squares cut into the walls, almost hiding in plain view. When I tried to inspect further, my mother stopped me.

"Careful what you touch, _chere_. Knowing your father, dere's probably a button dat dims de lights and plays an R&B record."

"Nobody calls dem _'records'_ anymore, Momma," I said with a deviant smile. But I obeyed.

The backyard was outlined by a wrought iron fence. Papa said that was to keep the twins from wandering into the lake. The house also had a three-car garage that we girls cared little for, and a basement that Papa planned to turn into a playroom of sorts. His exact term for it was: "man cave". At the time, no one protested his request. As we exited our dream home and returned to the car, he pointed out the incomplete areas.

"Still a lot t' be done before we can move in. Need t' implement a security system: it's minimal right now. Really just t' deter vandals. Obviously, needs a few sinks and cabinets. And I'd like to do somet'ing wit' de driveway, but dat can wait."

"Is it gonna be done before the twins arrive?" Rogue asked pitifully, rubbing her tummy like a sick child.

"Dat's really up t' dem, ain't it?"


	3. Rolling In The Deep

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Broken Chains**

**Chapter Three: Rolling in the Deep**

_Finally, I see you crystal clear.  
Go ahead and sell me out, and I'll lay your ship there.  
See how I leave with every piece of you.  
Don't underestimate the things that I will do._

_-Rolling in the Deep, Adele_

The house was all I could talk about. Initially, my friends were happy for me. But by day two, Uri had finally heard enough.

"Yes, we _know_ you and the house are very happy together. Send us a postcard from the honeymoon, won't you?"

"Am I ramblin'?"

"Dear Diary," Nate said in a falsetto voice, "I saw the house today, and it's just _so_ wonderful! It's got walls and a roof and _everything_!"

Tess, Uri, Nate and I had gravitated to our normal seats for lunch. Although the cafeteria had plenty of tables, no one was willing to share. We traveled in packs, defending our favored areas. My friends and I preferred to be far away from noise and attention, and always sat nearest the exit. We all began exchanging lunch items without discussion or hesitation. Tess got everyone's fruits; Nate, protein; Uri, deserts; and I got the starches. Who needs a balanced meal?

"All right," I said, "what else we got t' talk about?"

"Ray is changing her last name to Grey."

"Oh, Natey. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, her call." He shrugged as if he didn't care. We all knew he did.

I felt like a Grade A jack-ass for going on about how great my father was while his father was a walking bulls-eye. I couldn't say for certain how long Mr. Summers had been seeing Ms. Frost, but I knew the affair began while Ms. Grey was still alive. Mr. Summers and Ms. Frost were quite serious. They felt so strongly about each other that they wouldn't deny the relationship or end things under public scrutiny. And there was a _lot_ of attention put on them. I admired Ms. Frost. I happened to know – via precog notions – that she'd never sacrificed so much for one man. I didn't see much in Mr. Summers myself, but I though very highly of her. Their love life was their own private business, but Nate and I seemed to be the only ones who thought so. His half-sister Rachel saw the affair as disrespectful to her mother's memory. If Rachel thought about it a little more, she'd realize that _time_ was not the issue. She didn't want her mother replaced in Mr. Summers' _heart_.

"Hey, there's Ethan!" Uri said: glad to change the subject. He waved and the older boy joined us at our table.

"Greetings, fellow mutants!" He said brightly.

He bit into an apple and engaged Nate in discussion about their up-coming try-outs. Of course, there was a lot of attention put on Nate. I could only guarantee that he wouldn't be placed on the Hellions or Corsairs squad because that would be a conflict of interest… and just plain _mean_.

Tess was with us, and surrounded by books as usual.

"Is our conversation bothering you?" Ethan asked her kindly. "You look so intense."

"No, not at all. I'm able to give your discussion my full attention while retaining this novel _and_ noticing the way you lean towards Honor. Need I remind you that she's only twelve years old?"

He blushed and leaned back. I hadn't noticed how close he'd been to me. Nate gripped his water bottle, and poor Uri became very quiet. Tess, as usual, was completely unreadable. But I knew her well enough to recognize the jealousy in her voice, the betrayal in her eyes.

"You can do all that, huh?" Ethan asked tightly. "Ever get full in your head?"

"Not at all. The human mind is capable of occupying seven thoughts simultaneously. However, most minds fall short of their full potential. I am merely able to fulfill mine."

She returned to her book, clearly dismissing him.

An awkward silence settled over our table.

In the distance, I noticed Roxy trying to get my attention.

"S'cuse me," I grabbed my soda can and left abruptly.

She and I left the cafeteria and disappeared into the hall. Once we were alone, she grabbed my arm and whispered: "We've got to ditch that bitch."

We continued walking, and her eyes darted around nervously.

"Foxx?"

"Shh!" We ducked into the girls' bathroom, and she checked the stalls. We were alone.

"She came onto Gambit. In the shower."

"WHAT?" My voice was louder than I'd expected, and echoed painfully off the walls.

"It was after that training session, the one you came to," she said quickly. "We all hit the showers, but you know instructors get their own. She took one look at our showers and said they were no good. She was going to find something more suitable. And then she strolled right into the instructors' showers! In nothing but a towel! I _saw_ her!"

"He t'rew her out, didn't he?"

"I dunno, 'On. She was in there for a while."

"I knew it!" My hands gripped into fists. "I _knew_ it! And he called me a liar!"

"Look, there's more. I confronted her about it, and she attacked me."

I had not expected _that_. This girl was more dangerous than we knew.

"Roxy, if she assaulted you, you have to report it. You _have_ to."

"No one's going to believe me. Because of my mutations, she didn't leave a mark. Everyone's going to think I made it up out of spite, and the team's fragile enough. Worst case scenario, she'll get transferred to another squad. Same problem, different team."

"So what're we gonna do?" I asked.

"She's super curious about you. Maybe you could – I dunno – make nice with her?"

"Dat home wreckin' little Lolita?"

"I _know_ you don't like her, Honor; neither do I. But she's using the rules to her advantage, and she can't be intimidated. If she's got something to exploit, it'll take a friend to -"

The bathroom door opened and Foxx entered. Roxy and I were caught with our hands in the cookie jar. Foxx leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

"What do we have here, ladies?" Foxx said smugly. "You aren't spreading nasty rumors, are you, Roxanne?"

"Since when is it a crime to talk in the girls' room?"

"I think you do more than _talk_ in the girls' room, honey."

"She _was_ spreadin' rumors," I said, fighting the urge to panic. "But I know jealousy when I see it."

Foxx gave me a strange look. I tried to leave, but the blue-haired girl put an arm out to block my path.

"What'd she say?"

"Nothin' worth repeatin'." I shot Roxy a cold look and pushed Foxx out of my way. I headed back to the cafeteria, my stomach in knots. I didn't get far before I heard Foxx's voice.

"Hey! Honor, wait up!"

I stopped. As she approached, I tried to get a read on her. Nothing. She was either really shallow or really clever.

"I thought you didn't like me," she said, nervously twirling her hair. "Roxy doesn't like me, either. You know, I don't have anywhere else to go. The last thing I need is for you to make trouble for me."

"You keep away from my father and dere won't be any problems."

"That's exactly what Rogue said." Her black lips curved. "Just how many _wives_ does the man _have_?"

I tried to walk away, but she grabbed my arm.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Can we start over? Hi. I'm Foxx."

"Honor."

We shook hands, her manly grip conquering my slender, delicate fingers. We strolled outside into the cool spring air. My feet seemed to gravitate to the training field, even though I knew it would be crowded today.

"So I hear you're a precog," Foxx smiled in an attempt to be friendly. "That must be tough. I mean, none of the instructors here really know what you're going through. The telepaths try, but it's not the same, is it?"

"I have other powers. What about you?"

"Well, if you're worth your salt, you already know what I can do."

"You're everyt'ing de name implies," I said vaguely.

"Oh, you!" She bumped her shoulder against mine and laughed. "I forget what it's like to have a precog around. The way you talk, the things you do – so _mysterious_."

"You knew one?"

"Sure did. We dated for a while. I could help you, if you want. With your powers."

"No, thanks."

"You don't trust me? It's all right. I wouldn't trust me, either. I guess those rumors got to you more than you let on. Unless you're using your powers to dig through my past and future: judging me for things I haven't done or did in the past. That's not very fair, you know. I bet your friends and your parents have done way worse things than me, but you overlook that because you got to know the real them. You hated me before I even got here."

I didn't like the way she spoke – as if the words were prepared. She was in complete control of the situation, and I didn't trust that one bit. I sped up my pace, certain I would have sanctuary at the training field. She matched my pace.

"Oh, _cherie_! There you are!" A voice called.

I turned to see my mother and Bishop approaching.

"I'm sorry," she said quieter, once she was closer. "Should I not call you dat in front of your friends?"

"She's not my friend," I said.

Momma pretended not to hear me. "Hi, you must be Foxx. _Oui_, Remy's told me so much about you. I'm Belle, de ex. Just came with some paint samples, sweet_-_heart. T'ought I'd catch you on your lunch break. You said you wanted green. Any a' dese catch your fancy?"

"Why's Bishop wit' you?" I asked while reviewing the strips of paper in hues of pine, sage and mint.

"Lucas is installin' our security system."

I stopped and looked at her. "_Lucas_?"

Momma stared back at me blankly.

Our little group suddenly became more uncomfortable. Foxx was the first to break the silence with a little joke: "Honor doesn't like to see her parents with anyone of the opposite sex!"

Momma gave Foxx a very deep scan with her eyes. To her credit, the new girl didn't flinch.

"You're pretty sharp, _non_?" Momma asked, the wheels moving behind her eyes. "Lucas t'inks he can have de system runnin' day after tomorrow. I trust him, but I need t' make sure my family's safe at night. You mind givin' us a hand?"

I panicked. How could my mother be so stupid as to give this girl our secrets?

"I'd be glad to, Ms. LeBeau."

"Belle, _chere_. Den I come pick you up Friday. Let's see how far you get int' my home uninvited."

Momma and Foxx smiled at each other.

I choose a crisp blue-green color someone called "Sea Breeze" for my bedroom walls. The bell rang, and hundreds of students trickled off the fields, out the cafeteria, and away from shady spots back into the halls and classrooms.

Foxx departed somewhat coldly, but I was glad to see her leave.

Bishop vanished without a word.

Momma put her arm around my shoulder and walked me into the crowd. Leaning into my ear, she said: "No worries, _chere_. Dat little rat won't get far. Ain't my first time down dis road wit' your papa."

She gave me a confident smile before departing.

I couldn't help but feel victorious.

Steam billowed into the entire room. Through a haze of soft white clouds that left warm moisture on the skin, the red tiles along the walls and floor were visible. The ceiling was a soft white that became gooey under extreme heat. The only sound was the waterfall of a single shower head. Occasionally, the water fell in larger amounts, indicative of a body under the stream.

Foxx sauntered through the mist. One bare foot crossed over the other, taught thighs rubbing together like a violin and bow. A white towel was gathered at her heavy bust. The thin, damp material dipped down her back, barely covering her front and rear ends. Suppressing a giddy smile, she ran a hand up Gambit's muscular back. He turned, and the towel dropped to her feet. A few words were spoken, their existence was insignificant. Then the hands came together: skin on skin. Long, white arms snaked around his strong shoulders, and he lifted her effortlessly against the wall. Next, her long, white legs gripped his waist.

There was panting, grunting, begging and scratching. But no kissing.

It was the primal union of two bodies in one moment of time… A moment that would shatter all the ones to follow.

Alone in the dark, I woke up covered in sweat. I looked around my dorm room, remembering who and where I was. Julie was undisturbed by my trauma. My skin retained the sickly, itchy feeling that came before and after a strong vision. My heart ached as it never had before. I could still see the evil little glint of victory in Foxx's eyes as she put her arms around him… like she knew I was there.

_It's not true, it's not true, it's not true_, I chanted.

I couldn't shake it. The dread. The hatred.

I threw my blanket aside and charged off, not bothering to grab a housecoat. I needed my mother. I needed her solace and confidence. She would say the problem could be fixed. She would beg or order or manipulate all the players into place. She'd do whatever it took to keep our family together. With renewed energy, I slipped from my room, down the dark hall to the longue. I quietly moved into the guest hall, where her room was located. To my surprise, she was already awake. I saw the light in her room spill out from under the door.

Slowing my pace, I heard her voice. Who was she with? Bishop?

I willed my heart to stop racing, and crept to the door. I could hear her speaking with… _Foxx?_

"-I should, but it doesn't bother me," Foxx said.

"Dat's wonderful. I don't t'ink it ever bothered Remy, but Honor use to wear big sun glasses. I don't know why. Far as I can recall, no one ever bothered her about it."

"No one had to. She knows she's different."

My heart pounded furiously in my ears. What business did they have to be talking about me? There was a silence, and I worried that I'd missed something important.

"It must be hard for you," Foxx said. "You raised a mutant child all on your own. I mean, it's hard enough with a child that can blend in. And then she runs off with him at the first chance-"

"I can't be mad wit' dem for bondin'. She's _his_ youngin', too. She's got de right t' love him."

"But still, it's hard to see. It must be. You spent so many years being hurt by him. And now he's back, and she's over the moon about it. She never even notices, does she? She has no idea how hard it is for you to play nice with him - to see him every day. Does _he_ even know how hard it's been for you?"

I wanted to punch that bitch!

"Foxx, one day you'll have a child, and you'll understand de sacrifices we make for dem. It ain't just about him. Dere's Rogue, too. And now dey're havin' dese babies. You know he bought a house in Nawlins?" I heard the anger in her voice rise. "It was s'post t' be _my_ babies in _dat_ house."

My heart was beating so hard that I was afraid they'd hear it. I knew Momma still had feelings for him! I _knew_ it!

"That could still happen," said Foxx, as if she were speaking for me. "Gambit said he would've never left if he'd known about Honor."

Momma barked a laugh. "Oh, dat man _loves_ makin' promises he can't keep!"

I couldn't stand to hear another word. Betrayed by my father, I had sought harbor with my mother only to find that _she_ was in bed with the enemy, too. Why didn't they believe me? Why didn't they _trust_ me? I knew I was just a stupid, meddling girl, but they were my _parents_. That should have meant something! Risking expulsion, I decided to see Tess. I had a gross feeling that I just couldn't shake alone in the dark. While doubling back, I had to pass the kitchen. I noticed a light from the refrigerator, but hoped to slip by unnoticed. As long as it wasn't a telepath or Logan, I was in luck.

"Sugah?"

I stepped back and saw Rogue. She was wearing an over-sized t-shirt and mismatched fuzzy socks. Her chestnut hair with the white streaks was slightly curled and messy. I thought she looked very pretty. In her hand with the plain gold wedding band, she was eating a tube of bratwurst like a candy bar.

I couldn't suppress a giggle. "Rogue… That's disgusting."

She shrugged and grabbed mustard and the milk carton.

"What on earth are you doin' out this late?"

An ocean of affection surged over me. I entered the kitchen and hugged her. Granted, it was very hard to get to _her_ with the belly in the way, but I managed. She was so beautiful and sweet and… _good_. I loved her, and I didn't want to see her hurt the way my father had hurt my mother and me. She put her snack on the counter and hugged me back.

"I love you, Rogue. I'll always love you."

"Rock-a-by, baby, on the tree top," She sang softly against my hair, and rocked me in her arms.

I laughed. "I'm a little too big for dis, _non_?"

"Just let me practice… When the wind blows, the cradle will rock… Dern, forgot the next line."

"I think it's-"

My hand accidently brushed her arm. I felt a sharp sting like static electricity, and knew she'd zapped my life force. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe she did it intentionally. Maybe it was fate. I don't know. We looked at each other for a long time before she finally spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Papa caught hell that morning. I know they tried to keep things quiet – at first – but then Rogue started throwing his things into the hall.

"Rogue, you need to calm yourself," Ms. Frost told her as a crowd began to form. "Think of the children." She didn't mean the students. "I know you're upset. You can be as angry as you want, but you cannot overextend yourself. You cannot make a scene in my school. Understand?"

Rogue dropped her face and cried.

Ms. Frost wasn't a total ice-queen, but she wasn't Rogue's friend, either. She handed my pitiful stepmother over to Tante Ro, and asked Logan to remove my father from the hall.

"With pleasure," he said mercilessly.

_I_ wouldn't have left with Logan in that mood, but Papa's a brave man. Or stupid.

Thank goodness for my friends! They rallied around me – even new-comer Ethan. They used good humor to shoot down my negative thoughts. In between classes, I would find a note in my locker or they'd travel out of their way to see me, just for a second. They even found creative ways to support me with their powers. Ethan was the sweetest. He cut an eraser into a rose head, and then crystallized it on a pencil. I kept it until graduation, when it mysteriously disintegrated. Uri was the most vocal, of course. He serenaded me in the lunch room, and received a thunderous applause from the school. Nate did this neat little trick in my mind. Any thoughts of my father automatically prompted the chorus of "Smooth Operator". I simply _couldn't_ stay anxious. They were so great that I almost forgot about the drama waiting at home. But eventually, the classes ended and the sun set, and I had to leave the fortress of my friends.

Momma was mad as a hornet and waiting in my room.

"What de hell happened? I get back from de city, and Rogue's missed all her classes! Your father's a mess! Won't nobody tell me a t'ing!"

I couldn't speak. My throat literally locked.

"Honor! What happened? Tell me!" She was on the verge of hitting me.

"I – I had a bad dream," I squeaked. "Rogue accidently touched me, a-and found out."

My mother calmed considerably. She'd let her imagination get the best of her, but now that she had a firm grasp of the situation, she could regain her composure.

"What sort of dream?" She asked indifferently, sighing and rubbing her face.

"About Papa… And Foxx."

She stopped and looked accusingly at me. "Oh no… He _didn't_."

I didn't speak. What could I say?

My mother embraced me, and we just stood there for a long time. "Well, maybe it's for de best."

I pulled away. "What?"

"Dey got a lotta problems, _ma cherie_. Ain't never easy for a kid t' have a broken home, but it's better den havin' married parents who hate each other. All dat fightin' and hatin'… Just better t' call it quits."

"No!" I nearly shouted. "How could you _say_ dat?"

"_Petite_," she took my hands and spoke kindly, "Dis been comin' for a while. You _must've_ known."

I shook my head non-stop. Hot tears jetted across my nose and temples. I couldn't stand to open my eyes or accept this life. It felt so wrong. My heart broke and bled and exploded into a black hole that threatened to destroy everything around it. If Papa and Rogue broke up, it was because Rogue had zapped _my_ vision. They weren't the same without each other. And what about the twins? They'd grow up with divorced parents, just like me. They'd have a half-start in life, just like me. Except _their_ loss would be _my_ fault… Maybe my loss was my own fault, too.

"Honor," my mother's voice was suddenly stern. "Did you take your medication today?"

I was still shaking my head. If I stopped, it was real. I heard the door open. Julie had been at the library working on a book report, but was now ready for bed.

"Get Dr. McCoy!" Momma shouted at her.

Julie took one last look at me with her frightened brown eyes and darted off, slamming the door behind her.

I shoved my mother so hard that she flew across the room and slammed against the wall. The black hole inside me finally surfaced. The rage pulsed over me like lightning. I could feel my heart slow, and then it began to beat abnormally. My body was actually moving backwards: not physically, but narratively. I was moving back in _time_. I saw my mother peel off the wall and fly back to me. Then the lightning filled my brain, sparking seizures. Time returned to its normal flow.

Dr. McCoy grabbed my neck and injected a sedative.

There was discussion about sending Honor back to Muir Island. She'd been doing well, but this relapse could've been fatal. If Julie had been late, if Beast had been further away, if Honor hadn't convulsed – the fortuitous variables had barely saved her life. Belle quickly dismissed sending her daughter away, but agreed to contact Dr. MacTaggert.

"Whatever for?" Dr. McCoy inquired. "I have all of Moira's files here."

"De lawyers will want t' speak t' a doctor who will say Remy's a threat t' Honor," Belle answered evenly.

He complied and then relayed the comment to Emma. The last thing the school needed was a public custody feud involving an instructor.

The patient herself was stable. Due to heightened levels of anxiety, insufficient vitamins to support the stress, and lack of required lithium to counter her mutated chemicals (which balanced aggression), her mental stability relapsed. The doctor returned her brain chemicals to normal readings. This gave her control, but did nothing for her stress. Some professionals would have given her a pill. Dr. McCoy called her friend. Honor lit up like a charged playing card at the sight of Tessa. They hugged and conversed about everything that made Honor smile. Hank watched them through the small window on her door. She really was a pleasant patient. Why couldn't her parents take after _her_?

"How she doin'?" Gambit approached from behind. He had a bruise under his left eye that had not received medical attention.

"Her levels have been re-balanced," Hank said guardedly. He would have to be very careful what he said around Gambit and Belle if they were planning on dragging the law into their custody arrangement.

"Can I see her?" He wasn't waiting on permission, but already attempting to enter her room.

"I'm not certain that's a wise decision, my friend."

"Why not?"

Belle appeared like a poltergeist at the sound of his voice.

"You didn't care t' see her de _last_ time she was laid up!"

"Belle, please, I don't need dis right now."

"I don't give two _spits_ what you _t'ink_ you need! What you're gonna _get_ is a new hole in your body! You want it above or below de belt?" She pushed her sleeves over her elbows.

"Not in my facilities!" Dr. McCoy bellowed.

"Please!" Gambit held firmly to the door knob. "_Chere_, I'm leavin' for Antarctica in de mornin'. I don't want t'ings to be left dis way."

"_Antarctica?"_ Belle screamed. A string of curse words in French followed.

While Beast called Bishop to assist him in the sick lab, the argument continued.

"You gotta be de _stupidest_ man I've _ever_ met! You'd go _back_ t' dat wasteland wit' dese people? Knowin' dey _left_ you dere last time!"

"I dunno who told you 'bout dat, but dey didn't tell you de whole story. Rogue absorbed de part of me dat wanted t' die-"

"And after dat wore off, she tried t' find you, _non_? She apologized, _non_? No, dat's right. She hooked up wit' de man who started de whole mess! I know more of de story den you t'ink I do. I know it ain't _love_, LeBeau! Are you too stupid t' know dat?"

Dr. McCoy peaked through the window on Honor's door. She had a pair of ear-phones on: apparently listening to a CD Tess brought.

"You never asked why I didn't tell you 'bout Honor!" Belle continued her tirade as Bishop arrived. "You always knew, didn't you? I didn't tell you 'cause you're a sick, twisted man, and _she's better off wit'out you_!"

With a gentle push and some nasty remarks for Gambit, Bishop moved Belle out of the infirmary. Gambit tried to see Honor, but she had her light off and her back to him. Tessa sat beside her bed, listening to the CD. The raven haired girl shot him a challenging look. He crossed the room and kissed Honor's temple. Then he left the school.


	4. Devil In Disguise

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**A/N: **There's a brief sexual encounter, but I don't think it'll offend anyone. I had a lot of fun writing Foxx, and I hope you have fun reading this new take on her. I think we can all agree that Marvel's version sucked. Foxx was as violent as Mystique, but not as clever or ruthless or dedicated. And the way she revealed herself? Ridiculous! Good plan, but failed execution. So here's my take. It's not all about her, though. Belle's beginning to remember why she cut Gambit out of Honor's life, and Rogue's trying to define what sort of life her children will have without him. Enjoy!

**Broken Chains**

**Chapter Four: The Devil in Disguise**

_You fooled me with your kisses.  
You cheated and you schemed.  
Heaven knows how you lied to me,  
You're not the way to seemed._

_-Devil in Disguise, Elvis Presley_

Friday evening, Momma brought Rogue, Foxx and me to the house. I thought Rogue would try to claw the girl's eyes out, but she held together very well.

Bishop was waiting for us in a black van down the street. I crawled into the van with Momma and Rogue while Foxx walked to the house. Inside the van, Bishop had (what he called) a primitive surveillance set-up. We could hear and see every room. There were other areas, like the air ducts, that she could possibly access, but he didn't bother to place a camera around every corner. Instead, he could monitor those areas with a heat and motion detector.

"Of course, we'll move all this _mess_ into the house once the tests are concluded," he said, giving Momma a head-set. "The panic room would be ideal, but all this electricity would naturally attract attention to that part of the building."

"Dere's a panic room?" I asked.

"_Oui_," said Momma, "Two entrances dat fork together. Two security clearances dat only you and de twins will pass. First one verifies thumb print. Second checks de blood. I didn't want de little ones to forget a pass code or not be able t' reach de eye scan."

"How come only we t'ree have access?"

"You t'ink Rogue and I need t' hide?" She smiled playfully at me.

Even with all the recent drama, Momma had never considered _not_ moving into the new house. She saw no conflict between Rogue and Papa having to share a home while divorcing. If she could manage it, so could they. If things became too unbearable, Papa would be the one to leave.

Momma already had lawyers fighting to get her name on the mortgage. I knew Papa would give her anything she asked for, but she was protecting herself. I couldn't blame her. She wanted rights to a third of the property. Papa and Rogue would be co-owners for the remaining two-thirds. That way, Momma and Rogue could buy him out, and my mother could not be _forced_ out with nothing.

She had already referred Rogue to her law firm, but Rogue just didn't have the stomach for war. I knew my poor stepmother was depressed. That light in her eyes had been extinguished. She didn't want to argue or apologize or make amends or make him suffer. In short, she didn't want to _live_. She was a ghost with only memories of emotions.

I turned my attention from my family to the television screens crowding the van walls. Foxx clumsily set off a silent alarm in the front lawn. I heard a light chirping somewhere in the house.

"That's a priority-level four threat," Bishop said. "Put any television in the house on channel 3 and you'll be able to view the source."

Foxx studied the building for a moment before jumping on the front porch. Every latch on every door and window locked shut. The little metal bars and clips sliding into place sounded like a hundred toy soldiers cocking their weapons.

"Priority level three," informed our installer, "At this point, only a voice-activated pass code will disarm the system. Assuming the threat is real, the cabinets have been unlocked. The system takes note of all bodies inside the facility before intrusion, and marks them as friendly."

"What cabinets?" I asked my mother.

"Weapons, _chere_," she whispered back. "Nothin' you need concern yourself wit'."

I recalled the nearly invisible squares I'd seen in the walls of Papa's room. Were they everywhere?

Foxx pulled on a pair of black gloves and cautiously tried to open the front door. Finding it locked, she tried a window. It, too, was locked, so she shattered it and crawled inside.

"Priority level two," said Bishop. "This will cut the lights and activate the panic room. That's your signal-" he told me directly, "-to grab the twins and retreat to your room or theirs. In your closets under the carpet, you'll find the only entrances to the room. Naturally, only you or they will be able to gain access. Once you're in, your only available exit is for me or Storm to disarm the system."

"I can't get out?"

"Not without me or your godmother, so don't use it lightly."

"It's for your own protection," Momma assured me.

The house was dark, but Foxx had enough light to see by. She managed to obtain her objectives with some heavy damage to our lovely home. Momma had hidden various objects around the house that Foxx was to retrieve. While the intruder broke our windows and cabinets, tore open walls and broke doors, Momma and Bishop leaned close together and whispered excitedly.

"-she's done dis before!"

"That's not Gambit's defensive style; she's been dodging bullets for a while."

Indeed, once the system established a priority level one, hidden lasers in the walls attempted to stun her. The closer she got to the bedrooms, the more intense the shots became. But she had managed to evade them all. So far.

I couldn't stand to watch my home get destroyed, so I stood outside the van until the test finished.

The stars were crystal-clear out here. I greeted my old favorites, and met a few new ones. I counted two shooting stars. The sky was beautiful. I always hoped to fall into it.

I could feel my father: a few thousand miles away. He was thinking about me and the twins. And Rogue. We were never far from his thoughts.

I reached in my jacket pocket and retrieved a letter. It had been left under my pillow by my father, but I didn't have the nerve to read it before. He'd left it after my latest hospital visit: after I pretended to be asleep so he couldn't speak to me.

_Dear Honor,_

_I'm sorry I didn't get to speak with you before I left. I know you're probably angry with me just like everyone else, but I wanted a chance to tell you good-bye. This mission that I'm going on has already cost the lives of a dozen scientists. But I volunteered because I think a little distance will do us all some good. You'll give me something to come back to._

_Take care and I love you._

I re-read it. Then I folded the letter into eighths and put it back in my pocket. This would be a secret between Papa and me.

Not long after, my mother and I rescued Foxx from the house. She had not gotten into the master bedroom, after all, thanks to a failsafe trap door. Once she fell into the tiny box, she could not get out without outside assistance. Naturally, those with the ability to rescue her where limited.

I tended to Foxx's mild injuries while Bishop and Momma discussed improvements.

"I could re-enforce the windows-"

"No, no, _chere_, we want de kids t' be able t' get out in case of a fire."

"I wish you'd re-consider putting an automatic lock on the inside doors."

"Same problem. And what if dey're separated? Dey'd all stay behind t' try and help each other."

I dabbed a wet cloth to Foxx's scrapped knee and softly blew the sting away. In the background, I could hear Momma and Bishop reviewing their blue prints. They were already planning another test with Papa as the intruder.

"You're a good nurse," Foxx told me kindly. "But this isn't necessary. I can take care of myself."

"Just let me put a bandage on dis," I said. "You don't want it t' get infected."

Her strange orange eyes drifted to Rogue, who was sitting alone in the car and looking slightly catatonic. "Is she going to be alright? Maybe she shouldn't be alone."

"She's just tired," I lied.

"I heard she and Gambit got into a fight. Are they going to be okay?"

I shrugged. "All done here."

"Honor, wait! You can tell me. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Are they getting divorced? Is that why he left?"

.::.

Saturday night, my friends and I went to a theme park nearby. For those of us who don't dance and are too young to drink, choices for entertainment are limited. The local park stayed busy: the fullest days being Saturday and Sunday. Jerry's Fun Park had video arcades, bumper carts and a putt-putt course. That night, I went to play miniature golf, but the _real_ thrill was getting away from my family. Ethan was kind enough to buy me an ice-cream, so Nate paid for my golf ball and club rental. I didn't quite understand this competition between them, but it was working to my benefit. In retrospect, our group was rather delinquent. We climbed on the props, screamed, and tried to throw each other in the shallow fake lakes. I remember grabbing random hands and hugging Tess almost constantly. There was a particularly intense moment in the cave with Ethan. I leaned against the wall and gave him a smoldering stare. He sauntered to me carelessly. One hand blocked my exit to the right; the other, tucked my hair behind my ear.

"I write my friends back home about you," he said hotly. "They ask me what you look like, but I don't know what color to call your hair."

"I call it blonde," my voice shook.

"But it's not really, is it? Got this red tint to it. And your eyes… What color are they?"

"Blood and black."

His bright purple eyes darted between my eyes. "Gorgeous."

Uri let out a yelp. "Honor and Ethan sittin' in a tree! When he's twenty, sixteen she'll be!"

We laughed and I took my turn at the tee, my checks burning. I wasn't very good at this game, but didn't really care. We lost score.

Outside the park, a group of local kids were signing on the corner. Two of them were visibly mutants, and as alien in appearance as anyone on my father's squad. I could tell by their voices that they were guys. The other one, who seemed to be their ring leader, was a skinny boy my age. He had mahogany skin, short dreadlocks, and blue freckles.

The three of them stood facing each other. They were very entertaining.

My group joined the crowd already forming around them.

_What do dey call us?_

_FREAKS!_

_What do dey call us?_

_FREAKS!_

_When dey see us in de streets,_

_Make a'way for de freaks!_

The crowd applauded and tossed coins. Live music in the streets? This was almost as exciting as the French Quarter! And here, in little Salem Center!

"Hey!" a man shouted. "We've told you kids not t' come back! I'm calling the cops!"

The crowd groaned in disappointment while the boys gathered their meager earnings.

Nate approached them. "Look, guys, if you'd like another way to get your meals, Xavier's Academy can help you."

"No, t'anks, buddy," the little leader flashed his yellow teeth. "Never had de stomach for nuns!"

They fled into the night.

"Check out the boy scout," Ethan teased, "Always looking for new recruits."

"No," he said shortly, "Just trying to keep a couple of kids alive. They sleep on the subway and will probably get mugged, but I guess you wouldn't know about that."

I didn't let this little footnote get me down. I was having more fun than I'd ever had, and intended to enjoy the rest of my night. We took the bus to the park and had to take one back. But we missed that ride.

"There's a train leaving in fifteen minutes," Tess said as we watched the bus fade away. "We'll need to hurry."

We had to sprint all the way to the subway station. The five of us slipped through the closing doors like bats out an oven door. We stood for a moment, desperately trying to catch our breaths and laughing hysterically.

"I thought Uri was a goner," said Nate, "A leg cramp's no joke, man."

"Nah," Uri was doubled over and panting heavily. "We Jews are no strangers to running under pressure."

We all collapsed into seats, breathlessly laughing. Tess and I fell on each other, our sides and faces burning. Holding her felt so natural. Normally, her nearness made me light-headed, but that night I couldn't have gone any higher.

"'Ey mon! You didn't tell me de Academy was a frat party!"

A few rows away sat the same boy we'd met earlier. His friends were gone, and he looked slightly embarrassed.

"Hey! Didn't get your name," Nate wiped his face and pulled himself together.

"Renegade. And you?"

"I'm Nate. That's Uri, Ethan, Honor and Tess. Where are your friends?"

"Don't got no friends," he said with a proud smile.

"Look, man, why don't you come back to the school with us? You can check it out. If you don't like it, you can leave. Unless you've got somewhere else to go?"

"I go with de pretty gurls," he sat himself in between Tess and me. Upon closer inspection, I noticed how bony he really was. He was skinnier than me. And he smelled, though I tried not to make a fuss about it.

The ride back to school wasn't long, but it was very late when we arrived. Tessa's watch read after midnight. Everyone was in bed.

_We_, however, were in no mood to sleep.

"Let's go for a swim!" I said, and headed for the lake.

Uri followed me immediately, but the others were more reluctant.

"That waters going to be freezing-" said Ethan.

"We could get expelled!" Nate said.

"God only knows what's in that water-" said Tess.

I tucked my hands under my arm pits and clucked like a chicken. _That_ got them moving. Strange the motivation we seemed to need as children.

At first, the water was freezing. It was exhilarating! Uri disappeared several times, only to grab someone and pull them towards the deep end. The lake was man-made, but half of it declined steadily to a depth of five feet. At the midpoint, the bottom dropped suddenly to twenty-five feet. The students avoided the deep end. We played a game called "chicken fight". I sat on Ethan's shoulders; Tess, on Nate's. The boys charged at each other, while Tess and I tried to tip the other over. We all fell many times, screaming and splashing the entire time. In the background, I could hear Uri and Renegade creating dramatic music for our epic battle. Renegade was actually very good at improvising lyrics.

The group of us fit together perfectly. We operated like we'd always been friends.

In retrospect, I assume the night watch guard decided not to interrupt us. The X-Men regularly rotated this unenviable chore, and there's not much to watch. I don't know who saw us that night or their motivation for letting us misbehave, but we ran ourselves rugged. After three, Tess suggested we turn before dawn. I showered and collapsed in the bed. For once, I had no trouble sleeping.

I dreamed I was sailing on the ocean. Rogue sat in a rocking chair on my sail boat. Her arms held her twin children. She smiled at me with all the love Heaven could hold: she was a vision of the Mother. The sky was a bright blue and filled with clean, fluffy clouds. Suddenly, I leapt into the water and swam with the strength and precision of a seal. When I came up again, Foxx was standing on a tiny island. She kneeled and smiled at me.

"Figured it out yet?"

.::.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I was filled with a knowing I didn't understand. My powers had taken over again. I had to fight just to go through the expected motions: dress, brush, eat. Then, I was moving with purpose and drive. Instinctively, I walked past my friends and the places we liked to be. I flew to the greenhouse, but why? Tante Ro frequented here, but she was at the North Pole, too. I found Foxx in the greenhouse watering the petunias.

"Honor? What on earth-? Gosh, I've never seen you here before."

"Can you help me wit' my powers?"

She set the watering can down. "Seriously?"

"_Oui_."

"Huh… Sure, honey."

I insisted on conducting our project in Foxx's room. Her assigned room was a little messy, for which she apologized. She quickly tossed some laundry in the basket and stacked her library books on top of each other. There must've been eight books piled on her bed. I read a few of the titles: _'The Devil in the Shape of a Woman', 'Malleus Maleficarum', 'Battle for the Mind'_, and '_Ethnobotany: The Evolution of a Discipline'_. Heavy books on brainwashing, torture and civil rights cluttered together. She had colorful tags sticking off the pages to mark certain passages, and all the material was open at once. I knew this was no class project… What was she looking for?

"You're readin' all dat? What for?"

She shrugged. "Guess I'm a bit of a nerd."

"I like t' read, too, but recreationally."

I picked up an old newspaper article on the Brotherhood of Mutants. The terrorist group had long disbanded, but in this report they had recently left Carol Danvers in a coma, and her lover was beaten to death. Something in the article tickled me, and I giggled.

"What's so funny about it?" Foxx asked.

"Some days, de devil wins."

"Never mind all that," she smiled. "Have a seat and we'll get started."

I complied, and she took a deep breath.

"Listen," she said. "Just _listen_, understand? Being a precog is a risky thing. There are governments and other powerful entities that would like to harness your power for themselves. It's a dangerous thing for people to know what you are and how powerful you are. That's why Xavier Academy doesn't have any precog classes. No one wants to admit to being good enough to instruct others. You have to promise to keep our meetings secret, okay?"

I merely nodded.

"Good. Now that _that's_ out of the way, the general rule of thumb is to know thyself. You know when something's amiss. You have to pay attention to your body language and the things around you. When you learn how to connect the dots, you can start to actually make _predictions_ instead of living in an endless déjà vu."

For the remainder of the day, she gave me a precog 101 crash-course. I learned how to distinguish visions from dreams, how to focus on one mystery, and most importantly: how to block out unimportant information. She told me which tools could enhance my clarity, how to process and hide my knowledge; which mutants were immune to my powers, and who I was vulnerable against. My greatest enemy was myself.

"My friend use to tell me that the whole world was inside her," Foxx said. "That the knowledge was like a river, and all she had to do was reach in and pluck out what she needed. But sometimes, she couldn't reach. When she couldn't reach, she was holding herself back. She didn't know because she didn't _want_ to know."

I started to shake.

Checking the time, I realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast. And I hadn't taken my meds yet.

"I'm sorry, but I've got t' go," I said in a hurry. I didn't want her to think I was blowing her off, but I wasn't about to tell her that my mental stability required a steady feed of chemicals.

"I know it's been a lot to accept."

"_Oui_. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow-?"

"Sure, honey."

I ran all the way to the sick ward, where Dr. McCoy administered my daily dosage in a shot.

…

My secret sessions with Foxx continued, and I felt the world opening to me a little more every day. She created an exercise that required me to obtain some information I didn't want. Without telling her, I chose my parents. They had more secrets than anyone needed. At night, I dreamed of Antarctica and Rogue. I saw images of her lying naked in a cave, and I watched her fly away from a cliff where Papa waited. He considered jumping, but refrained. It wasn't in him to give up. He almost died on that god forsaken tundra. He would have, too, if Mr. Sinister had not intervened. His minions found my father and brought him to one of Sinister's labs. Papa's original arms and legs were frost-bitten beyond repair, and had to be amputated. At that point, Papa woke up and found himself less of a man. He agreed to any terms Sinister requested – he just wanted to be whole again. He just wanted to put his arms around Rogue again.

Papa didn't blame Rogue because she'd been manipulated. First, she had her powers stripped, leading to her first sexual encounter. Then her powers were returned, and she was forced to absorb Papa's memories. She discovered some things she didn't like, but Papa was never given a chance to explain himself. Instead, Rogue was encouraged to hate him, and the information twisted to make Papa look like a villain. By the time she realized she'd been brainwashed, it was too late. Her pride kept her from ever truly apologizing, but he forgave her anyway.

The entire event had been orchestrated by the X-Men's greatest foe – Magneto. He wanted to divide the team and take Rogue for himself.

My father suffered unimaginable torments, sold his soul to the devil, and humbled himself enough to forgive Rogue… Only to discover Magneto's plan had worked. A younger, more appropriate version of the scoundrel lived at the mansion and had Rogue's eye.

My poor father.

But the visions didn't stop when I left Foxx's room. During classes, my thoughts were flooded with things I didn't need to know. I overheard the last thing Momma had said to Oncle Julien. It was an argument about my parent's upcoming wedding.

"_I won't let you do dis, Bella! Dis ain't what Papa would've wanted!"_

"_You t'ink dis is what __**I**__ want? I'm bein' forced t' marry dat __**T'ief**__ on accord a' de __**Guilds**__! We been at war longer den anyone can remember. Why peace so important now?"_

"_Don't play victim wit' me! Everyone knows you been sleepin' wit' him for years. About time he did de __**honorable**__ t'ing."_

"_I wish I'd never met him, Julien. Dis whole weddin's a joke! I'm so ashamed of what I've done."_

No wonder Momma blamed herself for Oncle Julien's actions. Her words simmered in his mind and finally spilled out in mortal combat. Oncle Julien thought he was protecting my mother and her honor.

But I knew the truth… Oncle Julien had planned on assassinating my father long before her little outburst. He had a plan, an alibi, and the means to do it. The fact that my mother had seemingly given her blessing only encouraged him to act openly. She had actually _saved_ my father's life.

"You're getting dopey, aren't you?" Foxx said.

We were in her room again. As usual, I was lying on her bed and she sat beside me. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't shake the disconnected feeling I had with visions. Maybe _she_ was just another dream.

"Wha-?" I rubbed my eyes.

"Dopey. That's what my friend called it…"

"You can say '_her'_," I said irritably. "I don't need psychic powers to know _that_!"

"You're losing your grip on reality. You need to spend more time in the here and now."

"Okay, I will. I can do dat on m' own. Let's keep going."

Information that was harder to obtain required me to quiet my consciousness so that my sub-consciousness could work. Foxx taught me how to do that. One day while in her dorm room, I learned something about _myself_. After my parents split up, my mother had casual boyfriends. Only a few of them found a place in her heart, but none of them were allowed in her life. Sometimes I would find a card or flowers they had sent to the house. That would be the last of them. Momma didn't play games: she said she didn't want them involved in her family, and she meant it.

A few times, I would lie awake in bed at night, and I could hear a man's voice. He was in my _house_. I figured Momma must've really liked this one, and hopefully I'd get to meet him soon. If I'd gotten out of bed and walked to the stairs, I would've seen my father. Momma could've led him upstairs and opened my bedroom door. He would've seen me "sleeping", and realized Belle had a daughter. Some very quick and inescapable math would've revealed _he_ had a daughter.

Would he have stayed?

How different my life could've been… If only I'd gotten out of bed.

.::.

Momma and Rogue seemed to be speaking less, but I didn't think much of it. Friends had times of unfriendliness, like anyone else.

My new friend Renegade decided to stay at the school. He gave no last name or home address. We all assumed he was just another runaway. Momma took one look at him and said: "Dat boy's a Thief. No, I mean he's a _Thief_." He never did admit it, but Momma was right. He was a hustler and initiated member of the Thieves Guild. What had led to his banishment was a mystery to me.

…

Friday night, I went to bed with some cramps. I couldn't remember if it was time for my period again or not, but assumed it was. I was in pain all night. While dreaming, I had flashes of blood and snow. Thick winter clouds blocked out the sun and rained thick, red, liquid life. Dark blood crystallized upon reaching the icy tundra. I was soaking wet: covered in sweat. I peeled back damp sheets, thinking I'd wet the bed. Turning on the bedside lamp, I saw Rogue's bed soaked in blood.

I literally shot up from the dream. Still half asleep, I almost tripped over my sheets running to the sick ward. Dr. McCoy and Momma were already there. They looked stunned to see me.

"Miss LeBeau, how did you-"

"_Chere_, you're pants."

I looked down. I had started my period, and bright red blood stains were everywhere. In the bathroom, Momma washed the blood out of my clothes out and found me a substitute. Ever the multi-tasker, she comforted me through the stall.

"I know you're embarrassed, baby, but it happens t' everyone."

"Is Rogue gonna be okay?"

"How did you know about dat?"

"Momma!"

"_Oui_, she'll be fine."

"And de twins?"

No answer.

Momma handed me a pair of blue cotton sweat pants over the stall door. "Dr. McCoy's tryin' t' telegraph your father."

I heard the hopelessness in her voice and started to cry again.

"Open de door, baby."

"It ain't supposed t' happen like dis!" I sobbed.

"Open de door, Honor. Don't make me crawl on dis nasty floor."

I unlatched the stall door and covered my face. "Papa already knows," I told her. "He and I get de same dreams. We were dreamin' about Rogue. Dat's how I knew."

"My baby's so clever."

She helped me get composed and told me what she knew. Rogue's blood pressure was sky-rocketing, and the twins were in shock. Dr. McCoy was considering an emergency cesarean. At this point, they would be viable, but their chances outside the womb were as good as they were inside. However, if he did nothing, Rogue would certainly slip into a coma. That could result in her death, _and_ the loss of her children. He had little time to make a decision, and no one to act on the twins' behalf should Rogue become incapacitated. Papa didn't have time to return, so Dr. McCoy needed him to name someone to act in his place.

"Nate! We've gotta get Nate!"

Momma just looked at me.

"Tell Dr. McCoy I'm goin' t' get Nate! He can help!"

I ran to the boy's hall, where I remembered I didn't know his room number. Some _great_ precog I was! _There_! 35! I somehow knew, and pounded on his door. When half-asleep Nate answered, I drug him by the wrist.

_*Is it my dad?*_ He thought, running with me.

_*No, it's Rogue. Stress. Blood-pressure. Papa's in Antarctica!*_

He ran past me to the sick ward. I hoped he would know what to do. With all the excitement, I hadn't been able to clearly relay my thoughts. My legs cramped, and I had to walk to rest of the way.

…

While Dr. McCoy was relaying the telegraph, his intern Dr. Reyes was preparing Rogue for surgery. Her hair was pulled back into a shower cap, and she was given an I.V. in her right arm. Momma held her left hand and asked: "Is there anyt'ing I can do for you, _chere_?"

"If you have to make a choice," Rogue said, "Ah want you to save my babies."

They both cried, and Momma wiped away Rogue's tears.

"I ain't gonna leave your side," Momma told her. "I'm gonna be right here de whole time. No matter what, hear?"

…

When I returned to the infirmary, Nate was holding Rogue's hand.

She looked radiant.

"I cannot explain the scientific mechanisms, but our good son has corrected Rogue's anomalies." Dr. McCoy smiled fondly at me. "I can only assume the issue was within her mind. And let's not overlook the Seer with the solution."

"Really?" I panted. "Dey're okay?"

Nate pressed his hands in prayer formation and turned his eyes upward.

"Yes, sister. Praise be my name."

"Nate… It's a _miracle_." To my embarrassment, I started crying again. "We need t'… tell Papa…"

"Never mind your father," Momma dismissed it. "Maybe a little scare will do 'm good."

She was wrong, but I was so relieved that I let it go.

As the sun rose, it cleared away our negative thoughts. Like birds rising from the nest, we fluttered out the infirmary and went about our day. We had worms to catch and appetites to feed. Unbeknownst to us, we weren't the only ones on the hunt.


	5. Crazy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**A/N: **The Golgotha story line comes into play in this chapter. For those of you unfamiliar with the comics, this alien creature tried to destroy the world. It began as an isolated incident that the X-Men brought into their HQ for investigation. The alien life force worked by playing off people's deepest fears and secrets. In the canon, Gambit and Rogue were forced to face some tough issues about their relationship, and Wolverine had this odd little love-confessional to her. Obviously, that would not have worked in a world where G&R are already married with kids. It was a good story (I think), so I took what I liked and tweaked it a little to make it work in a different scenario. Enjoy!

**Broken Chains**

**Chapter Five: Crazy**

_My heroes had the heart  
To lose their lives out on a limb.  
And all I remember is thinking:  
'I wanna be like them.'_

_-Crazy, Gnarles Barkley_

Storm knew they closed the North Pole case prematurely.

Six scientists were dead, along with the alien virus that drove them insane. A team from NASA spent the winter months in Antarctica researching extraterrestrial life forms that fell to earth eons ago and remained frozen. Upon thawing, the virus revived and took the residents as hosts. Video messages documented their growing paranoia. People disappeared. The survivors grew hostile and aggressive. Some hours after the last victim expired, the virus perished, too. Apparently, it required some other life to support its own. What more could be done?

And yet, Storm knew the case was unresolved.

Gambit had been sleeping terribly the entire trip. She worried for him. Their last night in the North Pole, she made him tea with sleeping herbs. He awoke just a few hours later, hysterical over Rogue and her unborn children. He held Storm at gunpoint, insisting she calm the blizzard so they could all return home immediately. Shamefully, she doubted her friend's sanity. Only when Wolverine received a telegram verifying Gambit's dream did she believe him. Was this the woman she had become? A woman who trusted _machines_ over a father's instincts?

Once the blizzard cleared, the team boarded the jet for New York.

If she had tried to hinder Gambit, he was not above stealing the jet and leaving them behind. He could have crashed, leaving them all to a frozen grave. And honestly, it would not have been more punishment than they deserved.

.::.

I was waiting in the hanger when the Blackbird returned. The platform lowered, and Papa was the first one off.

I shouted: "Papa's home!" and ran to greet him.

Like a little girl, I hugged his neck, and he swept me up.

"Oh, _ma cherie tite fille_," he said while carrying me like a small child. "My sweet little girl. How I missed you."

His grasp was firm while he held me, but I instinctively knew he was walking to Rogue. When I felt her close by, I dropped from his grasp. They had a very tender reunion with little kisses and tears. It reminded me that behind all the fights and pride, they loved each other. I was too young to appreciate how rare love is. Tante Ro surprised me with a hug. Her arms were firm and warm.

"Rogue looks well. I assume much has changed since our last transmission?"

"Nate saved her."

I hoped my Auntie understood because I could elaborate no further.

"The Goddess's ways are unknown to us."

I noticed Logan standing nearby. He never asked, but I knew he was worried about Rogue, too. I smiled and gave him a hug that he didn't return.

"I ain't yer Papa, pep."

"Hooray! Logan's back! And just in time for try-outs!"

Everyone had a laugh at Logan's expense. He grumbled and left me in the cold, but the gruff was part of his charm. Truthfully, the students both feared and adored Logan's power over their lives. He alone would assign everyone to a squad. All year long (and sometimes longer), he was petitioned by pupils and teachers alike: '_Please_ put me here!' or 'You _have_ to give me that student!'

Everyone knew Logan was above bribes, threats or pleas, but no one quite knew how to persuade him. Unfortunately, try-outs happened alongside finals. Most students were distracted or weary at try-outs, but Logan knew that. No doubt, he had been watching the students all year, and already had a team in mind for each of them.

This year in particular, exams and try-outs also aligned with Rogue's due date. My stepmother already had a sub handy. Should she go into labor early or be placed on bed rest, Ms. Coy Manh was prepared to administer exams or finish out the school year. Meanwhile, Rogue was the envy of everyone. She taught from a wide chair with her feet elevated. She ate constantly. It'd be a lie to say she maintained a cute figure, but you'd never know it from my father's behavior. He only had eyes for her.

Was he making a conscious effort to be oblivious? Was he really so preoccupied? Or had he really changed?

I didn't know.

Rogue and Papa were so happy that they moved back in together. However, my family was far from saved. Momma decided to move forward with seeking sole custody of me. He was still trying to please her diplomatically, but she had moved beyond promises and resolutions. She used Dr. MacTaggert to create her entire offense. Momma and the Scottish doctor believed Papa's behavior had some direct influence on our unusual bond. Since he refused to submit to testing, he was only making the situation that much more difficult. As a result, private investigators had infiltrated the student body looking for evidence. If they discovered my father's interest in Foxx, Momma would have all the evidence she needed. Naturally, the school was pressuring my father to quickly resolve the matter. If word got out about Foxx – and the media picked it up – the school would have more lawsuits and investigations than they could handle. It would be the end of Xavier Academy.

"A little late for a custody battle," Nate said about it one afternoon. "Jesus, they've been divorced for a decade."

"Because there's a child involved, the divorce is ongoing. _Nothing's_ final until Honor turns eighteen." Tess spoke from behind a book.

"At least your parents _want_ you," Renegade said, picking at his sad little lunch.

"Hey, anyone get Wagner's study guide?" Uri asked, boldly changing the subject.

We digressed into exam talks until I was interrupted by Foxx.

"Hey, 'On, can I talk to you?"

She looked terrible.

I lead her away from my friends before I spoke with her. I'd never told them about my secret sessions with her, per her request. Our meetings lessened from daily to weekly, but lately I'd had endless excuses to blow her off. I assumed that was the motivation behind her visit, but I knew how this looked to Tess. I knew she watched us leave, and I hated Foxx for creating so much trouble. My girlfriend was jealous enough over flirty Ethan.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be dere," I started.

"Oh, I don't care about that!"

"Okay…"

Foxx was pale, her hair un-brushed and poorly washed. I realized too late what she wanted to tell me.

"I'm sure you know Gambit and I were seeing each other. He said he didn't want say anything until the twins were born, but you _must've_ known. That's why you asked me for lessons, isn't it?" Her voice was slightly hysterical, and she gripped my shoulders. "I'm fine with that, really. I can see the stress Rogue's under. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Gambit's babies! But he can _call_ me or something!"

I kept silent, but gracefully escaped her grasp.

"He listens to you!" She continued, giving me crazy eyes. "Just _mention_ me. Ask him when he spoke to me last. Yeah! That'll remind him, and he'll call me after class or something. I just want to _talk_ to him, 'On. I miss him."

At the time, I believed her, but I still didn't sympathize with her. I kept silent.

"Honor!" she whined. "He said he _loved_ me!"

"Den you're as _stupid_ as all de others! You won't get my help _or_ my pity! Want my advice? Drop it before you get more den a broken _heart_!"

I left mad as hell. Not with my father. No, somehow I'd come to _expect_ this sort of behavior from him. But what kind of girl hooks up with a married man, knowing he's got two kids on the way? And then she gladly agrees to keep quiet! How much stupidity is required to buy that old alibi? He would break Rogue's heart, violate her trust, and humiliate her time and again. But he would _never_ abandon her.

I wanted to silence Foxx forever before she caused more trouble for Rogue. Momma would've been my best ally, but she was currently trying to destroy my father, too. If she had anything more than rumors concerning Foxx, I'd never see Papa again.

I felt so overwhelmed.

.::.

At 3:34 p.m. Wednesday afternoon, Wolverine attacked Professor Xavier. The aggressor was apprehended before any serious damage was completed. When questioned, he insisted that the Professor was an imposter. Following an investigation, Dr. McCoy concluded that the virus in Antarctica returned with the team. The school was immediately quarantined, and the government alerted. The staff was pulled from their classes, and the school was searched. The students were kept in their rooms with strict instructions not to leave under any circumstances.

At the time, I was locked in my room with Julie. Due to the nature of the quarantine, I had no idea if my family was safe. I didn't even know if Momma was on the grounds. She might return in the evening, only to meet the government barricade. She would be worried out of her mind, and demand to know where I was. The guards would direct her to a make-shift waiting area. How long would she have to wait and worry? She'd work herself into hysterics. I was even _more_ concerned about Rogue. Where was she? Was she okay? Papa could have been carrying the virus, too, and none of us even knew. He could have infected her, too!

If other X-Men were indeed infected, would they target the students?

I wasn't worried about myself, but for my friends. They were no match for our instructors. If Tess had no weapon or assistant, she was pretty much useless. She needed me. Once I found her, we could wait as long as we had to.

"Where are you going?" Julie asked me.

"Something's wrong. I have t' find Tess."

"You can't just leave me here!"

The two of us crept down a dim hallway, and through a silent staircase. The lights were out except for the glowing red signs labeling the exits. The air felt tense and suspicious.

"You were instructed to stay in your rooms!" A man bellowed.

Julie and I trembled like kittens. I saw Bishop's outline at the other end of the hall. He was the shadow of death, come to crumble my bones. One massive leg moved in front of the other, and I bolted back down the stairs. While out of sight, Julie and I darted into a utility closet. I held the knob tightly while she rummaged through rolls of toilet paper and cleaning products. Hidden in this closet was a tiny getaway door that led to a tunnel and eventually led to the sewers. It was a panic room of sorts for the school. Would the government have it locked, too?

We crawled through the little door and fell. The hatch immediately dropped into a steep slide – to deter intruders, I suppose. Following the slide, there was a brief drop, and we landed on top of each other. The landing wasn't hard, but was a surprise. I heard the little door shut and disappear from sight. We would not be able to exit that way.

Julie and I held hands as we ventured down the tunnel.

I once over-heard Professor Xavier saying the tunnels were originally built for the servants. The help used the system to move around the grounds without being seen. During the renovation of the mansion, the tunnels were a secure form of transportation. Now, they were just a secret exit. At least, that's what the _students_ had been told. The tunnels were brick, much like the house, but a cheaper sort of stone with sloppier workmanship. It was poorly lit: barely visible, really. Fortunately, the ground was cemented smooth. Aside from the occasional rat, we had no problems.

"Do you know where we're going?" Julie asked me. Her soft voice echoed through the darkness.

"Hello?" an invisible voice beckoned us.

I unraveled my mother's prayer beads from my belt and charged it just enough to pierce the darkness. A familiar woman came into view.

"Momma?"

"_Merci_, _Jesu_! Dis way leads out."

My mother looked very old, but her eyes sparkled at the sight of me. Her clothes had been oddly re-assembled.

"Momma… how'd you get here?"

"Lucas once told me de school's only weakness was de tunnels." She took my hand and started back.

"His name's _Bishop_. And what happened t' your shoes?"

"If you must know, I was checkin' for motion detectors."

"And your _shirt_?"

"Mind your tone, young lady."

Momma and Julie continued down the tunnel, but I stopped. Only when shadows eclipsed the blue illumination of my rosary did they notice I'd fallen behind.

"_Chere_?"

"You said we wouldn't leave wit'out Papa," I said. "You said we were a family." I gripped the beads tightly. I'd never challenged my mother so directly before, but I knew there was much at stake. My family depended on me.

"You wanna have dis talk _here_?"

"On Muir Island, my opinion mattered. What changed? You never even _asked_ me what I wanted."

"'Cause dis ain't about _want_, Honor Julien. Dis is about keepin' you safe. Dr. MacTaggert was right… Twelve times a year, dat man goes off t' play cowboy. You get kidnapped or hurt. At de least, you're up all night worryin' over 'm and fail a test. He ain't _never_ put you first. Dat's what dis is about."

"I got hurt and failed tests in Nawlins, too. De only reason nothin' worse happened is on account a' Jean-Luc. How many times did you leave me alone at night? Sneak int' some smoky bar t' take a contract on someone's life?"

"_Don't you speak dat man's name t' me!"_ Momma shouted. Her voice shook loose little stones from place. "Dat man's been de cause of all my problems! You t'ink he's so great? _**He's**_ de one who sent your father away. _**He's**_ de reason you got left alone. He tried t' kill me, too, so he could have you all t' himself!"

"**LIES!"** I shouted back. "It _wasn't_ Jean-Luc's fault! It was Oncle Julien's!" I crossed a line with those words. Although I hadn't put much thought into saying that, I immediately expected to be backhanded. The blasphemy tainted my soul, and – in my mother's mind – was proof of my father's corruption. "But Papa _never_ spoke unkindly of Oncle Julien! He _never_ blamed anyone but himself-!"

"Easy for _him_ t' do," My mother spoke with her eyes downcast. Her voice held strong, but somehow I knew she was crying. "He got t' walk away. Dat would've been easier. He wasn't de one left wit' a little one and no father. De looks I got… De things I did t' keep a roof over our heads… He wasn't de one checking de obituaries for his spouse! Or fightin' for his _birthright_! Dat's how he's always been! _Even now!_ Dat man ain't never tended t' you when you're sick. He just t'rows money my way and expects me t' do all de work. Momma's always gettin' de shit end a' de horse."

"I'm sorry you hate your life, Momma, but I won't take the blame for it! Not anymore!"

I lowered the rosary and our light source disappeared. I fled into the shadows, my heart pounding with my footfalls. Momma was right behind me, and I was instantly filled with guilt. What if she tripped and got hurt? It would be my fault. Would I stop and help her? Or would I go on for Papa? I couldn't do both. I couldn't _have_ both. (For some reason, I thought of Vaughn and how his little choices added up to a big impact. I was at a similar precipice. Something was about to happen… I just didn't know what.) Before I was forced to confront my mother, there was another light in the tunnel. In the distance shone a charged playing card held by my father. The neon pink card flashed at the sound of us, and I quickly lit my rosary as an olive branch. My pace slowed as my blue light turned purple.

"What de hell are you doin' here?" He asked of us.

Momma and I launched into our stories – I was worried about Tess, and Bishop chased me. She was trying to find out what happened, but no one would tell her anything. Julie and I found the trap door. Momma knew how to access the tunnels without being seen. Speaking of Julie… I glanced behind me, and saw she was behind Momma. She was short of breath and irritated.

"Can it!" My father snapped. "We've got bigger problems."

He continued down another tunnel. Not knowing what else to do, we followed him. His voice filled the darkness while relaying to us recent events: an alien virus that encouraged aggression had contaminated the school. My father was sent with Rogue and Logan into the tunnels to determine the security. Words were exchanged, and the team separated.

"Genius, LeBeau," Momma said. "Dere's a homicidal frenzy, and you leave your pregnant wife alone?"

"I didn't leave her. She t'ought I was infected."

Momma pulled me and Julie away from him. "_Mais_, are you?"

He smiled wickedly. "Lookin' for any excuse, _non_?"

He couldn't have known about the argument just minutes earlier, but his comment provoked her.

"Contrary t' popular belief, I don't live t' hurt you! I'm only lookin' out for Honor! _Someone_ has to!"

"Belle, why you t'ink I'm here? Why you t'ink I built dat house and bought dat car and helped you move here? You t'ink I did dat for _me_?"

I wanted to evaporate. Poor Julie was being exposed to my family's most intimate conversations, which meant the entire school would soon know our business.

"Oh, would you two just _kiss_ and get it over wit'?" I bellowed.

They immediately stopped talking and gave me a funny look.

Julie giggled.

"How long you two gonna _shout_ before you start _listenin'_?" I continued. "Everyone's mad at each other, and no one t'inks dey done anything wrong. Really comes down t' dis: Momma's afraid of gettin' left behind, and Papa's afraid of bein' tied down."

"Why you say dat, _catin_?"

"Why else would Momma work so hard at bein' a part of your life, and den try t' force you out? And why else would Papa marry Rogue and den treat her so bad?" They continued to look puzzled. "Don't play dumb!" I said. "Momma, I _heard_ you tellin' Foxx dat you hate Papa. But den in de same breath, said you envied Rogue. And Papa, you're runnin' around wit' Foxx while poor Rogue is big as a house! Why'd you marry her if you don't want her?"

Momma looked flushed, but Papa was quick to respond.

"I asked you not t' spread dat rumor, 'On."

"Papa, Foxx _told_ me you two were seein' each other!"

"_I'm_ tellin' you she lied. Is dat what got Rogue so upset? She overheard Foxx tellin' you about somethin' from a Nabokov novel, and decided t' set my stuff on fire?"

"She _actually_ started a fire?" Momma asked, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. "Bravo."

"I – I had a dream," I said. "A vision. I saw you and Foxx in de shower."

"I had de same dream, too, _chere_; but it was just a dream. I wouldn't lie t' you."

My mind was reeling. The relief was actually palpable. My father was the man I knew him to be, and not the man others thought he was. How could I let some air-head convince me otherwise? I had never trusted her, and yet… I had _trusted_ her.

Papa turned to my mother and asked: "Got anyt'ing you wanna t'row in?"

She took a deep breath. I knew my mother was a very proud woman, and accepting blame was a challenge.

"I'm sorry you over heard dat, _petite_…" The words were forced out. "I didn't mean de t'ings I say t' dat girl. I been goin' t'rough a lot dat nobody knows about… When t'ings get too upsettin', it's easy t' blame your father or Rogue because dat's what people expect me t' say. But de truth…" She took another breath and wrung her hands.

"Jeez, Belle," said Papa, "You're sweatin' like a whore in church! Lie much?"

"Go t' hell, LeBeau! De truth is: de doctor told me I couldn't have any more children. Happy? I don't wanna _talk_ about it, and I don't need anyone's pity! Just somet'ing I gotta deal wit', and I'm sorry if it turns me ugly sometimes."

"Decrepit old crone like you shouldn't be makin' babies t' start wit."

Momma shot him a very nasty word, but Papa laughed it off. I didn't know what to say. I was sure both my parents were wrong to pretend like this revelation was trivial, but the correct course of action was beyond my scope. Fortunately, I was spared the awkwardness of a direct response.

"_Gambit,"_ my father's collar said, _"Do you read?"_

"_Oui_, fearless leader."

"_The virus has been contained. Return to the War Room."_

"Rodger. Come on, _femmes_, let's get you back t' de surface."

"Yeah," I muttered, "Wouldn't want _Lucas_ t' get worried."

.::.

The X-Men were in the War Room for a long time. When they finally emerged, they immediately left on the Blackbird. I had no idea when or if my father would ever come home. Since Tante Ro was on the away team, astronomy class for the evening was cancelled. But I went anyway. Alone on the roof, I looked up at the diamond speckle stars and wondered if one of them carried my father. He'd broken a date with me. My mother was right: it hurt to love him. But that was something I was willing to live with.

"_Chere_? You didn't know dere was no class t'night?"

I heard my mother's voice as she climbed the staircase. Her presence made me nervous. Unlike Papa, she wouldn't hesitate to confront an issue the moment she saw one. Our conversation in the tunnels was unfinished, and I'd been avoiding her all day.

"Hello? Earth to Honor. Anyone home?"

I looked at her, my lips sealed.

"Oh, I see. _Mais_, I said I was sorry. What're you all quiet for?"

I thought for a moment. "Did you even _want_ another baby?"

"I did. Not so much for me. I loved Julien unlike anyone else in de entire world. He was de only person who'd lived my life wit' me. When my Papa died, he was dere wit' me. When Momma made a fool of herself, he was wit' me. He and I had a kinship… Dere's a connection between siblin's dat just can't be imitated. I wanted you t' have dat."

"Well, dere's de twins," I offered.

"_Oui_. Dere is de twins." She strolled around the rooftop aimlessly. "Dere was always some excuse. Dere was always a reason **not** to. Those t'ings don't seem so important now."

The silence between us built and became too intense.

"Who would you even have a baby wit'?" I asked lightly. "You never had any boyfriends."

"Details, details, my love! Look, dat ain't what I came t' talk t' you about. Come inside and have some tea wit' me and Rogue."

I obliged, feeling greatly relieved. I followed my mother to Rogue's room, where my stepmother was located. As we entered, I heard the toilet flush and the Mississippian waddled out.

"Honor! Hey, sugah, how ya take your tea?"

"Lots of sugar, thanks. Gettin' a little too hot for tea, ain't it? Needs some ice."

"Needs some **vodka**," my mother said, "Can't wait for Rogue to drop dese youngin's. I need a drink!"

"Who you talkin' to?" Rogue asked. "If _you_ need a drink, _Ah_ need the whole dang bar!"

"Not till you're done nursin'," I reminded her. "We don't want a couple of drunk infants."

The three of us settled in, and entertained ourselves with conversation. I'd always enjoyed very liberal conversations with my parents. It sort of boggled my mind that Nate had only discussed sex _once_ with his parents; that Uri was forbidden from questioning his religious upbringing; and that some kids were embarrassed just to be mutants. Although I was naturally uncomfortable with my ever-changing powers and body, I was never _ashamed_ of who I was. This acceptance of the corporeal made it easy to discuss all things physical. Rogue and I would complain about outgrowing our bras while Momma lamented her dead sex life .

My parents were unusual in many ways. Obviously.

In the exclusive company of women, we had our favorite topics of conversation. We soon tossed around Foxx's name, being the recent and most exciting subject. Thankfully, I was spared apologizing to Rogue. Papa already told her about our revelations in the tunnels.

"Oh, Ah don't care about that," Rogue said carelessly, "Heck, Ah took 'm back not knowin' _that_ much. But what was Ah suppose to think? Ah mean, he wakes me up in the middle of the night with some nightmare. Then he clams up, not tellin' me a thing! He gets a shower while _Ah'm _feedin' _his_ babies, and consolin' _his_ kid in the middle of the night! Ah love you, Honor, but that shoulda been your father there!"

While Rogue let off her steam, my mother nodded as if receiving the Gospel. I half expected her to raise her hands and shout 'Hallelujah!'

"And Ah get this memory from Honor," Rogue said, "Poor Honor! Who'd never speak a _word_ against the man! But there's more than ya'll know. See, during one of our telepathic sessions with Emma, he kissed me, thinkin' Ah was Foxx. So _then_ Ah thought he lied about spendin' all that time at the house. And that Ah was a fool to believe him for so long. And why did he _really_ need to shower at three a.m.? That little Lolita's got no idea how much heartache she's brought me!"

"People keep callin' her dat," I said. "She's less of a 'Lolita' and more of a 'Delilah'. I think she's been playin' us all along."

They both leaned towards me.

"I can't _prove_ it," I began with a disclaimer, but it was wasted. I knew they would believe every word I said. That's the power of a precog. "It's just a _vibe_ I get from her. From de first night she arrived, she's been pushin' us away from Papa. She somehow shows up at all de right times in all de right places. You ever notice dat? First she gets his attention, weasels her way ont' his squad… She pretends t' be our friend, but de whole time, she's tryin' t' get Momma t' fall in love wit' him again. She's spreadin' rumors about seein' him on de side. And she said she'd help me wit' my powers, but I _know_ she just sits dere and listens t' me rant. She's just waitin' t' get somet'ing juicy on Pop."

"Why're you takin' lessons from her?" Rogue asked.

"She said she knew a precog, and that she'd be able t' help me," I answered, "Also, I… Thought it was a good idea t' keep her close. I think she means t' destroy us."

"I t'ink you're right," Momma said seriously.

"But why?" asked Rogue.

Momma's eyes sparkled. "I know how t' find out."

…

We asked Foxx to return to our house in Poughkeepsie with us. More security tests, Momma lied casually. Foxx bought it, and the three of us were on our way. But the snake in our mists caught the scent of deception. Why were we going so late? Where was Bishop's van? What did Momma expect Foxx to do differently?

"Oh, Gawd, my back!" Rogue complained, and Foxx suddenly forgot her suspicions. The younger girl told Rogue to lay her seat back, and began timing my stepmother's contractions. She inquired about dizziness and nausea.

"You done dis before, Momma Foxx?" My mother asked lightly. Then, she asked Rogue: "You wanna turn around, _chere_? We do dis another time."

"No, don't be silly," Rogue said, taking a few deep breaths. "Hank said false labors aren't uncommon. And anyways, we're not too far from the hospital."

So we pressed on with Foxx tending to Rogue's every sigh. I wondered if Rogue had staged the whole thing, and why Foxx cared so much. A few minutes later, the four of us proceeded into the house. Momma turned off the security system and turned on the lights. Rogue looked around for a place to sit, but of course the furniture hadn't been brought in yet. Her options were the floor or the staircase: both uncomfortable.

Foxx quickly scanned the room and saw a two-step ladder left behind by a painter. She crossed the room and lifted it without a thought. As soon as she grabbed it, a laser beam blasted her into a quiet heap.

"My Gawd!" Rogue gasped.

"She's okay. Just stunned." Momma jumped into action, instructing me how to restrain her hands and feet. We rigged up a device from handcuffs, rope, and the stair railing that would hold Foxx in mid-air. Once lifted, she would be upside down, but we refrained from that position until she was conscious. Meanwhile, Momma carefully duct taped her mouth.

"How're we s'post to find out anything if she can't talk?" my stepmother asked.

"_Mais_, I imagine when she first comes to, she'll try t' scream for help. We scare her a bit, ask some questions, and den de tape comes off. _Chere_, cut de lights. Don't want somebody t' see a shadow and get de wrong idea."

_What idea would that be?_ I wondered. _Wouldn't want someone to think we trapped a girl, held her against her will, and tortured her for making eyes with the wrong man._

Despite what Momma told Rogue, I knew we wouldn't be asking any questions. The time for words had passed. Foxx's reasons were irrelevant. This was the proverbial door on the rear end. Foxx should've known my mother and I don't make ideal threats.

..

The older girl came to like a kitten. One eye opened, and then the other. She began to tug at her restraints, and panicked once she felt her mouth taped shut. Momma pulled the rope, and Foxx was lifted like a shark on the docks. She squirmed back and forth, but the rope held and she had no help. Finally, she stilled herself and waited for the inevitable. She looked quite silly, really. Long blue hair standing on end like a troll doll, face flushed, and eyes burning. And she was spinning helplessly, slowly – with a murderous glare.

"You shoulda known you wouldn't get int' my home uninvited," Momma said as she tied off the rope. "You lied t' my daughter," said Momma, "Soiled her father's name, and tried to break up my family. You are guilty of dishonor, deception, and conspiracy. In another life, I might've offered you a job… But you made a big mistake targetin' my family."

"You had it all set up," I said, pushing her so that she spun one way and then the other. "You made sure Roxy saw you go int' de teachers' showers, but Gambit wasn't even in dere. He was on de field still talkin' t' me. Then you made yourself look guilty… And my father, too. You pretended t' be my friend so you could see just how powerful I really am. Does dis answer your question?"

My mother turned to Rogue and said: "I never told you how I found out about Antarctica. _She_ told me. I found out about Joseph, too, and what Remy had t' do t' get back. She was right t' t'ink I'd hold it against you forever. You can't ever make dat right, but I ain't gonna let her use my anger t' get her way."

"Belle, Ah-"

"Save your breath, chere. I use t' wonder what you saw in him… Now I wonder what he sees in you."

Foxx was shouting something, but her mouth was still taped.

Rogue approached her and spoke very quietly. "Ah believed the rumors. The things Ah said to that man… The things Ah _did_… It's a wonder he ever forgave me. And all for _nothin'_. You know I almost miscarried because of you? You didn't have to hurt us like this. Why couldn't you just let us be happy?"

Momma ripped the tape from Foxx's mouth. Immediately, our captive spit in my mother's face, and received punch.

Foxx spun like a caterpillar.

I grabbed a handful of her blue hair and she came to a painful stop. My other arm wrapped around her neck and squeezed. She squirmed again, attempting to head butt my diaphragm.

"Stop it!" Rogue cried. "No matter what she's done, she doesn't deserve this!"

"I was afraid you'd turn yellow," said Momma.

With very little effort, my mother was able to lock a Genoshan collar on Rogue. The device was typically used to neutralize mutant powers, but could also be used to inflict pain. Rogue was no stranger to hurt, but too much would endanger her babies.

"You don't wanna cause your children t' suffer for dis harlot," Momma said. "Trust me, mine's suffered enough. You just have a seat, and let me do what I came t' do."

"Don't do it!" Foxx yelled breathlessly. "You hurt her, and I'll rip your eyes out!"

I adjusted the rope so that Foxx was now at least six feet from the floor. Then I gathered random trash left by the construction workers: papers, tape, disposable paint tins and the like. I piled the trash under Foxx.

"Please help me, Rogue!" cried Foxx. "I'm sorry, all right? If you wanna know the truth, your husband's stepped out before. Maybe not with _me_, but he _has!_ You had a _right_ to know! Belle has a tape of-"

"Oh, shut _up_!" Momma shouted. She found a broom, and slammed it against Foxx's spine. It broke in half, throwing wooden splinters across the floor.

Foxx cried out in pain, and tears trickled up her brow.

"Stop it! Please!" Rogue pleaded.

Momma turned the broken broom handle on her.

I picked up a playing card that had been left on the floor: either by the workers or my father, I didn't know. The card was the Queen of Diamonds. I showed it to Foxx.

"You said we were just gonna ask her some questions," Rogue pleaded with my mother.

"I've got a question for her," I said. "Are you ready t' die?" The card between my index and middle finger caught fire. I tossed the card into the trash pile, and a small fire began to build. It was no funeral pyre, but the flames easily incinerated her long hair and singed her scalp.

Finally, Foxx decided she'd suffered enough. Her orange eyes burned into my soul, seething acid and contempt. "You fucking little cunt," she snarled, her voice lower than I'd ever heard it. "I'm going to enjoy killing you." Her body sort of melted, and she slipped from her restraints. The next few seconds were a blur. I never saw her stand or move. There was a flash, and I was struck hard across the jaw. Momma fired her plasma gun but missed. I heard the crack of small bones and she groaned pitifully.

While I struggled to pull myself up again, Rogue had blocked Foxx's escape. For some reason, Foxx didn't attack Rogue.

My stepmother looked angry – much more so than I'd ever seen her. She wept and shook with fury. But she wasn't upset with Momma and me. Her green eyes were set on Foxx, burning through the younger girl. _"Momma, how could you?"_

I crawled over to my mother. She was conscious, but unmoving. Her neck had been sprained: possibly fractured. I didn't know what to do.

"I did it because I love you, Rogue," Foxx said.

Momma asked me if I was badly hurt. I couldn't help but laugh, and when I did, tears fell. I shook my head and asked her if she could move. She joked about putting her out to pasture; that she'd never play the violin again. I helped her sit up very slowly. I glanced over at Foxx, wondering why she hadn't attacked Rogue to escape. To my surprise, Foxx had morphed into a curvy, blue-skinned woman with bright red hair. This persona was even more dangerous than Foxx, but she held her hands up patiently.

"That man doesn't deserve you, baby," the blue woman told Rogue. "If Belle would tell you _half_ the things he's done, you'd _know_ he doesn't deserve you! I know you only married him because of the twins. You've seen how well-adjusted his first child turned out, and you think a ring on his finger will ensure the best for your children. You don't need him, baby. You don't need a man at all. I didn't."

"For the first time in mah life," Rogue whispered, "Ah'm happy… Ah'm _normal_. And you tried to destroy that. Ah will _never_ forgive you."

We decided to return to Xavier Academy. Due to the change in events, I drove. My hands were moist the entire time, but we arrived safely. Mystique, Rogue's mother, willingly returned with us. I felt like an idiot for being the last to learn her true identity. Of course, Rogue had told Momma everything long ago. Momma already knew that Mystique had taken Rogue in as a child, and trained her to be a modern ronin. Some people might have called her a terrorist. Rogue ran away to join the X-Men, and became an adversary to Mystique's work. Some might have taken the betrayal personally, but not Mystique. She had caused her daughter a great deal of pain, but her intentions were always pure. Even now, she sought to make amends.

If she loved Rogue so much, why couldn't she just let her be happy with someone else?


	6. In My Arms

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Chapter Six: In My Arms**

_Story books, full of fairy tales,  
Of kings and queens and the bluest skies.  
My heart is torn in knowing  
You'll someday see the truth for lies.  
When the clouds will rage  
And storms will race, but you will be safe in my arms.  
Rain will pour down, waves crash all around.  
But you will be safe in my arms._

_-In My Arms, Plumb_

I did not envy Mystique. The X-Men wanted to hurt her even more than Momma and I did. However, the team decided to detain her until a decision could be reached on her consequence. It was very late, anyway, and half the team was still away.

Sleep did not come easily.

Shortly before midnight, I awoke to a tapping at my window.

I saw Papa's silhouette and opened the window. Julie slept on.

"Pop," I whispered, "What're you doin'?"

"It's Wednesday," he smiled. "We gotta date. Get dressed."

I had class the next day, but sleep seemed irrelevant. I quickly pulled on a pair of leggings, boots, and the standard denim jacket. My hair was pulled back in a haphazard pony-tail. He told me to hold onto his neck, and we leapt harmlessly to the ground. We rode his motorcycle into the city. It was the first time I'd ever ridden one, and although I was uneasy at first, I soon found the open air exhilarating. The racing pavement near my exposed limbs made me giddy with excitement.

We went to the Museum of Modern Art. The simplistic building belied its notoriety.

"Papa," I said irritably, "It's de middle of de night. Dey're closed!"

"So?"

Once more, he had me climb on his back and we broke in. He disarmed the security system and carried a small electronic device to scramble the cameras. The machine was limited to whatever room he was in. That way, the underpaid, sleepy security guard would only notice one screen flickering at a time.

Papa was very excited about an M.C. Escher exhibit.

Personally, I found the darkened hallways more interesting. It had been a long time since I'd been out Thieving. Oh, we didn't _take_ anything, but this was how one thieved. Papa operated just like Jean-Luc. I imagined my father at my age, accompanying his father. Jean-Luc was alright, but he wasn't as fun as Papa.

The art exhibit was pretty dull at first glance. The colors were black and white or flat. The pictures were silly and impossible. It was only when Papa explained Escher's use of geometry that I began to take an interest. I had never thought of my father as an art fan. Papa said this artist was a _genius_: that with very little training, he could simply look and think and work out the calculations. Escher was brave enough to not only imagine the impossible, but to make it real. Papa said he always thought life was a pattern. He believed that beneath the words, skin and heartbeat, there was a pulse that drove us all to the same rhythm. He said he saw that same pulse in Escher's work.

"Y' know, Pop," I said proudly, "People just don't give you credit."

We made it back to school, and I got a few more hours sleep. I never told him what happened earlier that night, and he never told me about his away mission. Sometimes, it's necessary to just ignore unpleasant things.

That's what the nighttime's for.

News of Foxx's undercover status ignited the school's rumor mill. To everyone's surprise, she wasn't crucified. She was offered a place on the team. Apparently, the X-Men believed the old proverb: if you couldn't beat 'm, join 'm.

My life was such a whirlwind of activities that spring, Mystique's presence hardly registered in my mind.

Since Foxx had been exposed, my parents had slowly come to understand and accept her many manipulations. Her ultimate goal was to drive Papa and Rogue apart. She attempted to do this by attacking my family's weakest points: Rogue's insecurities about Papa's commitment; Momma's desire to keep me safe and happy; and my need to be understood. She had attempted to isolate Papa, and had nearly succeeded. His family felt inadequate, his squad was bickering, and his teammates didn't trust him. How much more would he have lost before he finally just left?

Momma consented to arbitration with my father, and he agreed to submit to observation. For the first time in a long time, I was hopeful for some sense of normality.

Predictably, the contractors had fallen behind schedule, so we all picked up the slack. Every weekend for three weeks, my parents and I painted, installed shelves, hung up curtains and carried furniture. While Papa and I were at school, Momma picked out the appliances and interviewed gardeners. We moved in May 20: a month shy of Rogue's due date.

At school, my teachers were convinced I was ready for the ninth grade. My parents agreed to let me take the seventh and eighth grade exams. If I passed both, I would move on to high school with my friends. I started spending all my free time in the library. Everyone else took exams over the course of a week. I would test for two weeks. That meant losing a week of summer break. Of course, exam time was also the time for squad placement, and that's what everyone was _really_ excited about.

Thursday afternoon, the bleachers were loaded. Ethan and Nate were testing today. It wasn't uncommon for the school to attend anyway, but Nate was a particularly popular student. Everyone knew he would do well. Tess and I arrived early and sat up front. Before things got started, we snuck into the lockers to wish Nate good luck. The room was noisy and smelly. The dozen or so boys from his class were basking in their testosterone glory: shouting and bumping chests. When they saw Tess and me, they screamed in falsetto voices and grabbed their towels.

"My _virtue_!" Ethan yelped.

"If this is a panty raid, LeBeau, your timing's terrible," said Jay Guthrie.

Tess and I giggled.

"We came t' wish you luck," I told Nate.

The room whistled and hollered.

He smiled at me, looking particularly handsome without a shirt. Unlike many of the other boys, Nate had some definition. His boots and pants were the standard patent leather. I noticed his belt buckle was a silver 'X' within a circle just below his impressive abs. His bare chest had some firm fullness, too. His arms – I intimately knew the strength of his upper limbs – were a study of anatomy. Every muscle was carved and hard as stone. The sight of his flesh at once repulsed and intrigued me. Top the package off with some stellar hair, sweet blue eyes and old money, and you had one great catch.

"You're a doll," one of the other boys called. "Now show us the tits."

My friends leapt to my defense, hurling nasty words and lose items. As Tess and I turned to leave, we turned into Logan. Although shorter than me, I seemed to shrink under his stare. His large, bulky arms were crossed and tense with adrenaline.

"You girls can't read?" he snarled.

Tess swallowed hard.

"We- we just-" I stuttered.

"You just earned yourself a place on the course. Hostages. Come with me."

Too frightened to argue, we complied.

The field was set up like an obstacle course. Nate's class was divided into four teams of six, each with three boys and girls. Each team was given a flag to defend. The objective was to capture the other flags without losing the defended flag. At the last minute, Logan decided to replace the flags with "hostages". Tess and I joined Quentin and Reagan – older students also serving detention with Logan – as said hostages. We were given black uniforms and protective gear, and instructed to wait to be "rescued".

The crowd seemed to enjoy the change in details. They cheered briefly as we hostages took our position, and thundered when the teams emerged. I was guarded by Jay's team. While Tabitha Smith and Sally Blevins protected me, everyone else split to capture the other hostages. There were some impressive battles, some explosions, and some students removed for receiving a "mortal wound". The uniforms worked as a barrier to protect us from harm. However, to ensure a fair game, the outfits also detected the possibility for great harm. Should anyone take a hit that should have finished them off, the uniform rendered the wearer useless. That way, no one got hurt but the game followed realistic combat.

I didn't see much of the action. For ten or fifteen minutes, I sat on my _derriere_ and picked at the grass. Finally, Nate and Rusty Collins came to capture me. There was a brief battle, and Nate managed to grab me. I resisted out of play. Logan didn't give us any instructions on behavior. Even though Nate was my friend and I wanted him to win, I was bored.

He was not in the mood for games.

"Knock it off, 'On!" he snapped and threw me over his shoulder.

Now my _derriere_ was in the air, and I heard the low laughter of a distant crowd. I struggled, but he had no trouble keeping me still while running back through the course and fighting off the other teams. He really was incredibly strong. Before he returned to his base, I slipped from his grasp and he struggled to grab me. His hand happened to grab between my thighs, and I indignantly kneed his stomach. He fell like a giant – first to his knees and then flat on his front. I broke his fall, and fought to get out. I did _not_ like him on top of me. I did not want him touching me.

Even injured, he overpowered me.

I just wanted to get away. I would go with him willingly, but he couldn't touch me again. Once more, I was blocked by his invincible body. When the boy wanted to, he could weigh a ton and endure any pain. I kicked and punched and felt my powers building with my hysteria. Even though I knew it was a game, I felt trapped. Even though I knew he was my friend, I felt threatened. Even though I knew I was safe, I felt as helpless and violated as I had on the moon…

"_LET ME GO!_" I screamed, fighting with all my might.

He tried to pick me up.

"_GET OFF ME!_"

I felt my energy reach its climax. Something inside me was winding up tightly, ready to fire off and destroy everything it could reach.

Thunder clapped.

The world around me calmed, but the storm within continued to brew.

I felt the air suddenly cool, heavy clouds rolled in, and rain began to pour. The students on the bleachers ran for cover as the rain became blindingly heavy. Although the game hadn't been paused, the players were in complete confusion.

"You are safe, my child," Tante Ro said.

She calmly descended the bleachers and crossed the field to approach me.

I didn't feel safe. I felt used and befuddled. I lay on my back as the field beneath me turned to mud. My godmother gently placed a hand on my stomach, and I felt her strength flow through me. I felt her spirit - her very essence – revive my soul. And I don't know why, but I wept.

I sobbed and screamed and the storm cried with me.

"What did I do?" Nate asked her.

"You did nothing wrong, child. This is the fear inside her taking hold. I have felt it many times. The demon blinds us until we lash out, hurting everything around us. Most of all, we hurt ourselves. I will stay with her. Go on with your game."

"But – But she's-"

"Logan will understand. Continue with your course."

I didn't understand why I was so upset. I was ashamed of my reaction. My body seemed to be acting of its own accord.

"May I help you to the infirmary?" Tante Ro asked me.

I pulled myself into a sitting position and found my body very heavy. My head was light and dizzy.

"I can't walk," I told her. My words slurred together.

"It's all right," said a man's voice, "I'll carry her."

"I do not think that is wise."

I used all my strength to look at the man.

Ethan.

With the last of my power, I lifted my arms to him. He quickly scooped me up. His arms were strong, too, but different from Nate. Ethan wasn't an invincible boulder to fight against; he was an unshakable foundation. I was so weak and helpless in his arms. I couldn't even lift my eye lids. I felt the movement of his body as we entered the halls and took the underground tunnels back to the school. He turned me as we squeezed through doorways, and held me close when we ascended the stairs. He never struggled to support me or asked me to stand.

"I don' wanna go t' sick…" I muttered, "I wanna go t' bed."

"You sure?"

"Yeah…"

So he took me to my room, carried me inside and gently laid me in my bed.

"You stay wit' me?"

"Of course, beautiful," he said, stroking my wet hair. "I'll stay as long as you want."

On the morning of June 12th, my mother woke me some hours before dawn. Surprisingly, I was having the best night's sleep of my life. What _wasn't_ a surprise was why she woke me so early.

"Rogue had de babies."

We grabbed some breakfast at a 24-hour diner before continuing to the hospital. That was the first time I ever ordered a cup of coffee. I didn't care for it.

"I remember de day you were born," Momma told me as we ate our bacon. "You weren't due for another month, but I had labor pains all day. Everybody told me it was nothin'. First time mommas always jump de gun, dey said. De Old Man had de house full. He and your grandmamma were getting' ready for dere fortieth anniversary. It was gonna be dis big party on September 20, and everyone said 'Oh, how wonderful! Belle gonna have her baby on dere weddin' anniversary!' But I said, 'Dis baby ain't waitin' on any anniversary.' 'Course, didn't no one listen t' me. T'ank goodness Tante Mattie was dere, 'cause you weren't waitin' on a doctor, either. Six forty-five, I dropped t' de floor just screamin' in pain. Tante Mattie looked at me and said, 'Holy _merde_! Dis _bebe's_ comin' **now**!' _Mais_, I'd been tellin' her dat all day!

"She said: 'Keep your legs toget'er, _femme_! Keep your legs toget'er!' And of course, nothin' scared de Old Man. He's over dere, smokin' a cigar: 'If she didn't listen t' me, Tante, what makes you t'ink she'll listen t' you?' Less den an hour later, dere you were. Head full of red curls and screamin' your little lungs out. You always were a fighter. You know, babies born dat quick are normally still born. I knew dat. Dat's why everyone said I was wrong t' say you was comin' so fast. It's a miracle… I always t'ought Julien was lookin' over you. De family had enough death for de time bein'…" She wiped her eyes and said: "De first time I held you, de very first time… I felt myself bein' born. You don't ever love anyone like you love your children. You been de best part of my life, _chere_."

"Note to self," I said, "Momma gets weak-kneed over men wit' charm and babies wit' curls."

My little brother was three and a half hours old when I held him. He was chubby for a newborn, and especially heavy for a twin. He was bald as a cue ball, but had blackish-blue eyes that were alert and clear. He looked up into my eyes, meeting me as I met him. My little sister was almost five hours old before I held her. She had fallen asleep on her mother's chest, and no one wanted to wake her. Poor Rogue looked half-dead. She didn't wake up the entire time I was there.

Finally, Mystique removed the little girl from her mother's arms, and gently placed her in mine. She reminded me to support the head, and then watched the little girl sleep in my arms. My sister was also bald, but slimmer than her brother. She was the runt.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Mystique cooed. "She's got her momma's nose."

My sister nuzzled against my chest, then opened her eyes. She looked at me as if to say: 'Wait a minute. You're not my mother!'

"Look at those beautiful blue eyes!" Mystique gushed. Then she said to my father: "I might be in luck, LeBeau! Maybe these aren't your children after all!"

My father shot her a rude gesture.

Papa and Rogue named their children Olivier Jean-Luc and Rebecca Raven, respectively. Although slightly premature, the twins were only held for three days before they came home. Mystique was elated that Rogue had named her daughter after her. She insisted on taking a room at the new house in order to help with the new babies. She even agreed to a monitoring device. With the brain implant, the X-Men knew where she was all the time, and they preferred her at our house than the mansion. She couldn't hurt or lie without receiving an electric impulse. Also, Rogue and Momma had the ability to stun her. With Mystique around, Rogue's hormones completely screwed up, and two screaming infants – my parents decided to send me away for a few weeks.

"Johnny called," my mother said one night at dinner. "He's tourin' wit' Carlos Santana this summer. Isn't dat fabulous?"

"Dat's great," I agreed.

"He's stopping in all de big cities… Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… All across de country. What you t'ink about goin' wit' him?"

I dropped my fork.

"Seriously?"

"_Oui_."

"Can Tess come?"

"Oh, I don't see why not."

"Oh my god!" I screamed. "I'm gonna meet Santana!"

Without clearing my plate or asking to be excused, I leapt up and ran to my room. I had calls to make and bags to pack! If the pod people had taken over my parents, they could stay! I couldn't believe this!

My parents – who were so over-bearing that they went _with_ me to a mental institution and knew all of my friends and teachers on a first-name basis – were letting me go on a rock concert tour! There would be underage drinking and celebrities! I'd be partying all night, and sleeping all day! I could wear whatever I wanted! I'd get to see great cities and hear amazing music. Best of all, I'd have Tess with me.

If my parents had any idea what I did that summer, they would have driven west just to drag me home. The outrageous parties surpassed all of my expectations. Despite Johnny's endless reminders of my age, I was never denied alcohol or tobacco by his entourage. Every night was a party. Tess and I had front row seats to every concert. The energy started hours before the music started. You could hear the people thundering from outside the building. I never tired of hearing the same songs over and over. Those cords were always a pleasure.

Only one man tried to push himself on me. He was a roadie who had slipped into one of our parties. Johnny cut his tires, stole his clothes, and left him on a road in Phoenix.

Other than that, it was a non-stop party.

Johnny's humorous attempt to incorporate "work" into his tour was by auditioning a lead singer. Johnny had never had a talent or love for writing lyrics, and his record exec thought a pretty girl would appeal to a wider audience. My godfather hoped to accomplish both tasks with one person. Twice a week for three hours, I played piano while he watched a pretty girl sing. Most of them were very bad. Some passed for bearable. A few were bilingual. There was only one girl I really liked. She was a beauty from Puerto Rico named Soledad Lopez. Of the hundreds of applicants, she was the only one who spoke to me. She had a light to her… That _spark_ that hypnotizes. I knew she was perfect.

Johnny required a bit of convincing. He was sleeping with another girl and wanted to hire her. I told him that girl was a bitch, and people would see that. Sleeping with a girl was one thing, but could he bring her on a tour bus? Could she attract an audience? Could he _trust_ her with his _business_?

Towards the end of the tour, he hired Solie.

I reluctantly pulled myself together and returned to school. Too late I realized the _real_ reason why my parents had sent me away. They wanted me to be young and wild for one last summer.


End file.
